


Zuko Never Liked the Cold

by leopardgeckoz



Category: Avatar: The Last Airbender
Genre: AngstyZuko, Big dumb, Emotions?? What are those???, Eventual Sokka/Zuko (Avatar), GayPanic, Kidnapping, M/M, Oblivious!Sokka, Oblivious!Zuko, Pining, Protective Sokka (Avatar), ScaredFireLordZuko, Slow Burn, Zuko (Avatar) is an Idiot, Zuko is an Awkward Turtleduck, character betrayal, switching POVs
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-12-15
Updated: 2021-01-31
Packaged: 2021-03-10 16:40:35
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 8
Words: 36,025
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28080291
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/leopardgeckoz/pseuds/leopardgeckoz
Summary: "Sokka" Zuko spoke, garnering the tribesman's attention."Fire Lord Zuko," Sokka said, lowering his gaze to avoid Zuko's eyes, "you look well," Zuko felt so small.Sokka spoke mechanically, rehearsed, like the conversation was strained and the six words were something he might choke on.It dawned on him.Zuko was alone, not even Hakoda was here to defend him from the carnivorous harpies, it was just him.  His hands shook, lips trembled, but he did his best to show face.  His smile disappeared, his warmth dying like the last coals on a hearth, and Zuko felt cold.He hated the cold.
Relationships: Aang & Sokka (Avatar), Aang & Zuko (Avatar), Aang/Katara (Avatar), Mai/Zuko(Mentioned), Sokka/Zuko (Avatar), Suki/Sokka(Mentioned)
Comments: 36
Kudos: 204





	1. the north pole

**Author's Note:**

> I see you've stumbled across the Zukka tag. Welcome, grab some tea and perhaps a snack. I've a tale for you in regards to one of Tumblr's top ships of 2020. This tale is self indulgent and I have no shame. Fair warning, I am a mediocre writer at best and my grammar is kinda bad so, like, good luck you fiends.

Zuko never liked the cold.  


Perhaps it was the traumatic memories he’d attached to the sensation of frigid air against his skin and being submerged in glacial waters. The few times he had been cold, Zuko had been a different person.

It felt like a lifetime ago, chasing Aang through the poles regardless of the damage caused. He was blinded by shame, tunnel visioned. All he saw was the prize at the end of an expansive tunnel, being showered with praise and gifts and acceptance, but that wasn’t how it had happened. Had someone pulled Zuko aside seven years prior and said, 'look here, son, you're going to find the man who murdered a watertribe girl's mother, break in and out of a fire nation prison, and teach the Avatar how to firebend.' he would have laughed in their face and called the guards to escort the loon out of the palace. 

He wished someone had pulled him aside, took him by the shoulders, and gave him a good shake. Maybe he wouldn't have caused as much harm as he did. Maybe he never would have helped the Avatar. Fortunately, the past was in the past and Zuko planned on moving forward to atone for the parts he played in the harm of the nations.

Even so, he never liked the cold.

Perhaps it was the memories he’d attached to warmth. His mother’s smile, his uncle’s tea, his friends' hugs, the very fire that burned light into the night and heat into the hearth. The fire that he could bend so spectacularly and had even mastered since the fall of his tyrant father and twisted sister. It was only natural, one might assume, that the Fire Lord would dislike the cold.

However, after he’d accepted the title of Fire Lord and began his amendments with the other nations he signed an agreement stating that the powers would rotate where the Meeting of Nations would be held annually. 

Unfortunately for him, this year was in the north. The rotation of the Meeting of Nations had started with the Fire Nation, then the Earth Kingdom, then the Southern Water Tribe. The cycle then restarted but instead of ending on the Southern Water Tribe, it ended on the Northern. The two tribes having agreed to trade off when they would travel and when they would host. Zuko never wanted to face the north.

It had been six years since Yue, the Princess of the Northern Water Tribe, had breathed life back into Tui to save the moon spirit and the world. Zuko was weighed with guilt at the part he played in the death of Princess Yue, his honour clouding his judgement, he'd taken their only line of defense hostage and in turn a sacrifice had to be made. It was one of the many things he regretted in his young life, and now it was time for him to face it. He just...he didn't know how. 

He hadn’t been pardoned immediately. (At all, really, if one were to put the treatment of him by the other leaders under a microscope) He’d been judged and scorned and ridiculed by the other leaders but, luckily for Zuko, Hakoda had been on his side whenever the nations gathered. That didn’t mean he wasn’t in hot water half the time, _no_ , it merely meant there was exactly one, (1) person there with enough sense to interject and stop the circle jerk of egos from bulldozing over one of the youngest council members at the table.  


This year would be different in more than one way though, or so Zuko hoped. The meeting wasn’t only in the North, but it would include Aang and Sokka and that little tidbit of information eased some of the anxiety that had been plaguing Zuko during the weeks leading up to the gathering. 

He needed a friend at the table and this year he’d have not one, but two. Though his anxiety about the meeting had mellowed it was replaced with anxiety of seeing his friends after so long. What was he supposed to say when he saw them? Should he bow? Should they bow? Would they even recognize him? 

“Of course they’ll recognize me, half of my face is a dead giveaway,” Zuko muttered under his breath as he stared down at the waters. His chin rested upon a hand as he leaned over the side of his ship. 

Though his distinguished scar hadn’t changed much over the passing years, the rest of his physical form had. His hair was longer, his jaw sharper, and he was more toned than his teens not that it showed beneath his ceremonial garb. “What does it even matter?” He groaned loud enough for the Kyoshi warrior escorting him to turn her head.

“Everything alright, my Lord?” Her tone was guarded and professional for which he didn’t blame her. She was a new recruit who’d traveled from the Northern Tribe to the Fire Nation with the goal of becoming a member of the Kyoshi warriors. 

He’d applauded her tenacity as she’d practically harassed Suki until the girl couldn’t handle it anymore and gave her a chance. She more than proved herself to be a worthy addition to the group, but she was still hesitant around Zuko. 

As much as it irked him, he was also glad she didn’t harbor the same familiarity with him that Suki and Ty Lee had. If either of them had come along, they’d be assaulting him with pseudo-psych evals and unasked for advice. 

He would still have to face the consequences of their anger upon his eventual return to the fire nation for requesting Zaynab’s presence as his escort in place of their own. It wasn't out of malice that he'd left them out. Zuko wanted the two best warriors guarding Iroh as he stood in for Zuko and who better to take to the water tribe than someone who was native to the region?

“Yes,” Zuko answered resolutely.

He felt it inappropriate to pour his anxieties on the girl especially being some of which were anxieties of facing Arnook who had proven to be the most apprehensive of his presence in the past few years. 

Zaynab wasn’t part of the royal family, but she had known Yue which, to not only Zuko but to the rest of the Kyoshi warriors, meant her loyalties could be questioned. He had to trust her though, and by trusting her with his life and praising her for being the perfect candidate to help him navigate the frozen capital of the north, maybe she would trust him too.

“Uh-huh,” Zaynab’s gaze was inscrutable just as inscrutable as Zuko’s and the pair had a silent staring contest until she wavered under what Zuko assumed was obligation and not because she couldn’t break him. 

“Do you miss home?” He asked out of the blue for which Zaynab merely shrugged,

“My home is with the Kyoshi warriors now, wherever they go, I go.” Her answer was calculated, political, but most importantly it was polite. 

“A tactical statement,” he mused,

“A truthful one,” she added and Zuko let the subject rest deciding to go back to twiddling his thumbs and worrying about seeing his friends. 

The journey to the Agna Qel'a was uneventful with Zuko making little progress in his relationship with Zaynab. He was as thankful for the quiet as he was resentful of it.

It was nice not having to deal with an assassination attempt when there was most likely to be one, but it was dreadful being left to his own thoughts. He hadn’t had this much time to think since, _well,_ since the last Meeting of Nations. 

Though Suki had helped keep him out of his head for the most part the year prior, he’d still had moments to dwell on how he would properly greet each of the nation's rulers, their representatives, and their guards.

He’d once been asked why he greeted the guards of esteemed rulers to which the council members were taken aback when Zuko explained that they’re just as much a part of the meeting as the rulers themselves.

Without their guards, the rulers were vulnerable. It didn’t matter how tactical or skilled in combat any of them were, the group of them under one roof together made for a very large and very easy target.

This time Zuko wasn’t concerned with greeting the council members or their guards. He wasn’t worried about remembering the correct names and who was related to whom. He wasn’t even worried about walking into the room and interrupting the polite chatter of old friends only for it to be replaced with disdainful looks and the chirping of cricket-beetles. 

_No,_ he was worried of how Sokka would perceive him. Well, Sokka _and_ Aang, but mostly Sokka. Not because Sokka was in any way special, oh no no, it was merely because Aang had a habit of riding in on Appa or gliding in on his glider whenever he felt it necessary. Most of which was whenever Zuko was having a particularly rough go of things, how Aang knew, Zuko couldn’t fathom. 

That pattern in place, Zuko had seen Aang roughly six months prior but he hadn’t seen Sokka.

Sokka was busy in the Southern Water tribe with Hakoda and Bato most days and if he wasn’t in the south pole, he was in the Earth Kingdom. 

It had been thirty-seven months and twelve days since he'd last seen Sokka. Not that he was counting, no, that wasn't it at all. It wasn't like Sokka had left in the middle of the night without saying goodbye or leaving a note or anything. The sudden disappearance of the ambassador hadn't plagued his thoughts the entire thirty-seven months and twelve days as he'd never actually learned _why_ Sokka left.

He did remember hearing Sokka and Suki arguing just before Sokka’s departure from the palace and he did remember hearing Suki and Ty Lee discuss their break up, but he tried not to think on it.

The more he did think about it, and he had plenty of time to do so, he settled on Sokka being distant as having to do with Suki.

Perhaps the breakup was worse than the Kyoshi warrior let on. She seemed to wave it off as something of unimportance, but with Sokka having not returned to the Fire Nation in nearly three years and the Fire Nation being the new home of Suki and her warriors it only made sense.  


It didn’t make sense though. 

If Sokka was only upset with Suki, then there was no reason for him to ignore Zuko’s messenger hawks, no reason for him to send someone else to represent the Southern Tribe whenever requested, no reason for him to shut Zuko out. 

No, no, it did make sense. It made perfect sense. Suki worked closely with Zuko and if Sokka visited there was no possible way for him to avoid seeing her. Yeah, no, it made perfect sense. At least, that’s what Zuko had convinced himself.

“We’re arriving, Lord Zuko,” Zaynab reminded him as their ship approached the borders of the norther tundra. 

The vast white walls of Agna Qel'a were made of ice and snow that glittered like diamonds in the sunlight. The entire landscape glittered similarly nearly blinding anyone who dared gaze upon it, including Zuko.

He flinched, squinting his eyes, just able to catch sight of the waterbenders opening the gates to allow his ship to pass. As soon as his vessel was through, up went the barrier of ice.

Citizens lined the bridges above him to greet the leaders as they arrived. Unsurprisingly, their faces fell at the sight of the Fire Nation emblem and suddenly the cold didn’t feel so cold.

Zuko’s body warmed with embarrassment and anxiety, he wanted to dive into the arctic waters and let them have him. 

Anything, even drowning, would be better than facing the disappointed faces of, _well,_ everyone. Instead of fleeing to the waters, he held his head high and stared onward, past the citizens, towards the palace.  


Nestled in the center of the city, glowing vibrantly like a beacon, the palace stood tall and imposing. It didn’t glitter the same way the walls did instead light reflected off of it and onto everything around it illuminating the land.

It was impressive, especially being built of ice and snow, imposing, but impressive. In all it's crystalline glory, it felt fake. Everything was white and ice and cold, Zuko didn't like the cold.

His ship pulled into port next to a boat with the Southern Water Tribe colour scheme, this sight settled Zuko somewhat, reassuring him that Sokka was already there. At least Sokka would be happy to see him, even if the room filled with the sound of cricket-beetles at the sight of him (which only ever actually happened in his head) he would be able to block it out and focus on his friend.  


Zuko was led up the vast stairs by two tribesmen dressed in armor of silver that gleamed like the moon. Zaynab and two other Kyoshi warriors, Miura and Akemi, trailed behind him cautiously, acutely aware of the wary and disdainful looks the Fire Lord was on the receiving end of.

Zuko did his best to ignore them, eyes straight ahead, one foot in front of the other, _don’t look- don’t look._ He looked. His eyes flickered over a guard as he and his company passed by.

Zuko was met with a hard disapproving stare causing him to immediately shift his gaze and swallow a lump in his throat. If it wasn’t unprofessional of him to turn around and run away screaming, he might have done just that.  


“The council members are just through those doors,” one of the escorting guards spoke.

Zaynab took up the front, heading directly for the large double doors and pushed them open. There was a second of chatter before the room’s occupants fell into methodical silence...just like last year, and the year prior, and the year prior to that.

Zuko let out a breath following Zaynab inside. All heads were turned, all eyes trained on the Lord of the Fire Nation, but Zuko let his gaze quickly flick over everyone in search of- _Sokka_.  


He, like everyone else, had his gaze trained on Zuko who returned it with a small smile. Sokka didn’t smile back. He didn’t wave. He didn’t show any emotion in regards to Zuko’s arrival, his face was vacant.

Maybe, _maybe_ it was for appearances sake. This was the introductory meeting before the night's feast, surely Sokka was just tired, just-just, _yeah, tired_. 

Zuko tore his eyes from Sokka to greet the first dignitary, mentally chastising himself for worrying about something so small in a room filled with the rulers of the world.  


Zuko made small talk as he made his rounds, or tried to, but the council members had a list of all too complicated questions to ask him. The whispers of the New Ozai society, the attacks on the Fire Nation merchants walking the trade routes to the Earth Kingdom, his plan to improve commerce in the Fire Nation with the ongoing drought, his break up with Mai.

None of these questions had small talk branded answers and some of them were too personal. Had he less self control, he would had decked the one brave enough to ask about Mai, but Zukko had grown in the last six years. His patience? Incredible.

Even so, he answered curtly with the emphasis that all would be discussed come the meetings. All that was relevant, at least.  


The Meeting of Nations was an event held over the course of ten days. The first, fifth, and tenth day were reserved for relaxation, contemplation, and a celebratory feast in the evening. Zuko hated that. He’d much rather have gotten everything said and done in seven days, but maybe ten would bode better for him this year. More time with Sokka and Aang-  


“Where is Avatar Aang?” Zuko asked, realizing the eighteen year old was nowhere to be found.  


“Unfortunately, Avatar Aang was unable to attend this year. He sent a message, something about his bison being fatally ill. We agreed to send him copies of the reports,” a representative from the Earth Kingdom answered.

Zuko thanked him, sighing inwardly. Of course, he could never have it easy, could he? Hopefully Appa was okay,  


Finally, Zuko approached Sokka having saved him for last, with his back turned the tribesmen almost looked like Hakoda. He’d grown and was now taller than Zuko much to the Fire Lord’s dismay. His shoulders were broader, more muscled, even with his heavy tribal clothes Zuko could tell. He felt small compared to Sokka. A feeling he wasn't fond of in the slightest.  


“Sokka,” Zuko spoke, garnering the tribesmen's attention.  


“Fire Lord Zuko,” Sokka said, lowering his gaze to avoid Zuko’s eyes, “you look well,” Zuko felt so small.

Sokka spoke mechanically, rehearsed, like the conversation was strained and the six words were something he might choke on.

It dawned on him.

Zuko was alone, not even Hakoda was here to defend him from the carnivorous harpies, it was just him. His hands shook, his lips trembled, but he did his best to show face. His smile disappeared, his warmth died like the last coals on a hearth, and Zuko felt cold.

He hated the cold.  


**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Credit where it's due:  
> Miura is not my original character, she belongs to oldpotatoe check out their work:
> 
> [**feels like we only go backwards**](https://archiveofourown.org/works/25268089) (88888 words) by [**oldpotatoe**](https://archiveofourown.org/users/oldpotatoe)  
>  Chapters: 18/27  
> Fandom: [Avatar: The Last Airbender](https://archiveofourown.org/tags/Avatar:%20The%20Last%20Airbender)  
> Rating: Teen And Up Audiences  
> Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply  
> Relationships: Sokka/Zuko (Avatar), Sokka & Suki (Avatar), Suki & Zuko (Avatar), background Suki/Ty Lee - Relationship, Katara & Sokka (Avatar), Katara & Zuko (Avatar), Aang/Katara (mentioned)  
> Characters: Sokka (Avatar), Zuko (Avatar), Suki (Avatar), Katara (Avatar), Ty Lee (Avatar), Original Characters
> 
> Additional Note: this is not a continuation of flwogb, but a separate entity, :)


	2. and so we make friends

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So, this is ready early,  
> I realize the chapters are boring at present, but like, if you hang in there there _is_ the buildings of a plot aside from mutual pining. I think, I don't know,

Thirty-seven months. Thirty-seven months and twelve days since Sokka had fled the Fire Nation in panic.

It was a seemingly unprompted exit to anyone who wasn't Sokka. Through his eyes it was completely warranted, entirely prompted, and absolutely necessary. 100%. Who wouldn't flee the country upon seeing their close friend hanging on his girlfriend, kissing her neck and holding her hand and whispering sweet nothings into her ear? Who wouldn't flee the country when their stomach dropped at the sight and tears welled in their eyes, falling hot on their cheeks? Who wouldn't flee the country upon realizing they're in love with their best friend?

That's exactly what Sokka did. It wasn't a sudden revelation either. It had brewed and bubbled and churned inside of him festering until it was too late, he was in too deep, he'd flown too close to the sun.

Zuko was the sun. He was warm, kind, generous, smart, funny, he was- _stop it. Stop thinking about it._ Unfortunately for Sokka, his brain rarely listened. It was all he'd been thinking about since Hakoda had asked Sokka to attend the meeting in his stead.

If not that, his mind dwelled on how he would greet Zuko. Was he supposed to pick up where they left off? No, surely Zuko would have some questions. How would he answer? He couldn't just say, _'Sokka here, sorry I fled the Fire Nation without telling you, I was blinded by gay panic.'_ Well, he could, but that wouldn't be received well.

It might have been received better than the dead eyed stare and formalities he’d given Zuko when the Fire Lord had approached him in greeting. He froze in the moment, lost in Zuko’s golden gaze, heart thudding in his chest. The same gay panic he’d felt thirty-seven months ago set in. He couldn’t tell Zuko what had happened, not here, not in this room under the scrutinizing gaze of the foreign dignitaries.

They were already plotting ways to remove Zuko from office in hushed tones while casting disdainful glances over to the Fire Lord ever so often. Sokka's fists clenched at his side as he watched Zuko sidle from representative to representative. He wanted to knock their teeth in, to shout in their faces, to-

He remained silent. Eyes down cast as soon as Zuko spoke, he kept it simple. Perhaps _too_ simple for when Sokka looked up, the warmth had drained from the Fire Lord. The sun no longer shining. His gaze was hardened, jaw clenched, and he nodded to Sokka before turning to the Kyoshi Warrior nearest him and whispering something in her ear.

“Right away, Lord Zuko,” she said before rushing off, the other two warriors moved in to take her place.

“It was good to see you again, Ambassador Sokka,” the softness in Zuko’s voice caused Sokka's heart to clench. As Zuko turned away, it took everything in the ambassador not to reach out, grab his hand, and pull him back. Instead, he watched the Fire Lord retreat, nodding farewells as his guards led him out of the room. _Tui and La, what was he to do?_

Sokka had hoped that maybe, maybe he had fallen out of love with Zuko in the thirty-seven months and twelve days since he'd last seen the Fire Lord. He was embarrassingly mistaken,

"Ambassador Sokka?" Feiwen of the Earth Kingdom waved a hand in his face. "Are you listening, Ambassador?"

"Ah, forgive me, I was lost in thought. Could you say that again?" Though his words were directed to Feiwen, his eyes were locked on the door the Fire Lord had fled through.

* * *

As he dressed, Sokka pondered if he was as insufferable as the rest of the ambassadors. They were all nosy kiss asses. Doing anything to get on someone's good side only to screw them over later.

No, he thought, he wasn't _that_ bad. He loved a good bit of gossip as much as anyone (perhaps more so), and it was gossip that had put him in a better mood. Apparently, Aang was going to propose to Katara according to what he'd heard in the council room. The notion made him laugh, Aang and Katara? They would have to be _dating_ to get engaged...wouldn’t they? The notion was comical. Aang was like a little brother to Sokka and Katara, there was no way.

A knock sounded at the door pulling Sokka from his thoughts, “Ambassador Sokka, the feast will begin shortly. Would you like an escort to the dining hall?” Feiwen asked from the other side. He was among the younger representatives, around twenty-five. Though he was closer to Sokka in age, he was just as much of a kiss ass as the rest of the ambassadors and had inexplicably attached himself to Sokka.

He should have been somewhat grateful, it meant he had a friend in the room since he’d obviously obliterated anything that had been salvageable between him and Zuko.<

Sokka opened the door, dressed in formal tribal attire, muted blue clothes lined with fur and embroidered on his chest was an image of the moon in silver and grey. His hair was pulled back in its usual wolf tail and the stubble on his face was more noticeable than earlier in the day. He cursed himself for forgetting his razor.

He faced the ambassador with a smile as greeting, “Feiwen, this is unexpected.” Feiwen was roughly Sokka’s height with emerald green eyes and long dark hair braided down his back. The ambassador smiled at Sokka warmly, 

“Yes, well, I thought-” he sighs, “the others are so old and stuck in their ways, I thought perhaps we could be friends. This is my first Meeting of Nations and I’m a bit...out of my element, literally.” Feiwen descended from a long line of powerful earthbenders. Not as powerful as Toph Beifong, but still powerful.

It was clear he was uncomfortable being surrounded by snow, ice, and water. None of which were of his bending capabilities. “I feel alone, you know?”

Sokka did know.

He thought back to the day he’d left the Fire Nation. He’d been on his way to Zuko’s office with a proposal from the Southern Water Tribe in regards to the trade passage by sea. It was late, late enough Sokka hadn’t felt it necessary to knock on the door, big mistake. He’d opened the large walnut door, poking his head in to search for Zuko who was, surprisingly, nowhere to be seen.

Sokka shrugged, settling for placing the proposal on Zuko’s desk. He’d get to it when he had the time and it wasn’t of the utmost urgency. He was about to leave when he heard giggling from the terrace. Curious, Sokka quietly made his way over to the glass double doors which were sitting ajar. He peered through, enough to see, but not so much that he’d be seen.

There, sitting on a cushioned chair was Zuko with Mai in his lap. Their hands were intertwined, a smile graced Mai’s face as Zuko softly spoke to her. Sokka could hear Zuko’s voice, but he couldn’t make out the words spoken. He didn’t _want_ to know what Zuko could possibly be whispering in her ear. Sokka lingered for too long, for when he saw Zuko’s lips tenderly kissed Mai’s neck- he lost it.

He backed into the room, running into one of the chairs and knocking them over with a loud thud. Sokka scrambled to his feet, running from the scene. Tears had formed in his eyes and his heart thundered in his chest as he rushed to his room, slamming and locking the door behind him. He was running on autopilot, packing his things, shoving them into his bag without rhyme or reason for it. He had to leave. He paused his packing long enough to remind himself that he’d seen Zuko holding Mai’s hand, waiting on her hand and foot, whispering sweet nothings, he’d seen Zuko _kiss her_ at least a hundred times in the past three and a half years.

Why was he suddenly so stricken by it? Why now? His heart sank in his chest as he looked to the mirror across the room. Sokka sat at the edge of his bed, hands in his hair, crying as realization overwhelmed him.

“I understand,” Sokka spoke, gesturing for Feiwen to lead the way.

* * *

The dining hall was a vast room with an oval table in the center brought out specifically for the rulers and ambassadors. On the far wall was a series of raised platforms normally graced by the Northern Nobility, but today they sat among the rest, as equals.

Arnook sat with two of his closest confidants on either side of him at the far end of the table, closest to the platforms. “Ambassador Sokka,” one of the guards said as he and Feiwen entered the hall.

The guard stood at attention, eyes raised and gazing just past Sokka. “Chief Arnook requests your presence,” Sokka looked to where Arnook’s entourage was, noting there was an open chair just to the right of the tribesman.

“Thank you,” he gave Feiwen an apologetic look and the ambassador waved him off. 

“I understand,” he promised. Feiwen headed off to the rest of the Earth Kingdom ambassadors, taking a seat near one of the Fire Nation dignitaries.

Sokka eyed the opposite end of the table, the spot clearly reserved for Zukko who had yet to arrive. “Tell me, Sokka, how’s the South? Your father? I see he’s preparing you to take on his role.” Arnook said as soon as Sokka took a seat.

The tribe leader spoke to him with a casualness that Sokka assumed was common between him and Hakoda, but surprised him entirely to be on the receiving end of Arnook’s respectful conversation. 

“Things are...well. With the new restrictions on arctic seal hunting, their numbers have risen better than we could have hoped. The fish population seems to be on the rise, we shouldn’t have to worry about any more shortages if we keep this up.” Sokka rattled of with ease. He eyed the door as he spoke, waiting for the red of Fire Nation robes to enter at any moment.

“Sokka, I’m not asking about the politics. How is your family? How are you? It’s been quite some time since we’ve had you with us. If I’m being honest, I was glad to hear you’d be coming in place of your father. Nothing against Hakoda, but it’s been too long if you ask me,” Arnook said, turning to Sokka, forcing him to tear his eyes from the door and look to the northern ruler.

“I-” he swallowed the answer he was prepared to give, the one people wanted to hear. The ‘everything is fine,’ answer, and let the honest one roll off his tongue. “It’s been a hard year, Arnook. The smaller villages are squabbling, I can tell it’s taking its toll on dad. He’s been busy, tired, overworked if you ask me. I- I don’t know if I want that for me,” Sokka admitted.

Arnook smiled at him, “And that, my boy, is why you must remain the Ambassador, stay home too much and soon you’ll be in charge of all that nonsense. Trust me, I should know. _Ah,_ there he is,” Sokka followed Arnook’s gaze across the room.

Zuko had entered with two of his ambassadors in tow and three Kyoshi Warriors who took up residence standing behind him. “Between you and I,” Arnook said in a low tone, “I don’t trust those ambassador’s of his,”

Sokka looked from Zuko’s party back to Arnook and then back to Zuko again. This time when he looked, he caught the Fire Lord looking at him, his face unreadable. Sokka was certain Zuko’s blank stare had been entirely his fault. Guilt swelling in him and he cast his gaze downward.

He could barely look at Zuko without his heart threatening to break from the cage of his chest, and he’d gone and made Zuko sad.

“So, Fire Lord Zuko,” Deming of the Earth Kingdom started in, he was wiping his upper lip of stew when he spoke, “tell us, what are your plans for involvement in the reparations of Omashu? With King Bumi’s passing, we need to know where our strongest allies stand,”

Sokka, along with the rest of the council, turned to look at Zuko. The Fire Lord set down his utensils slowly, turning to Deming. “That is best left for discussion in the formal meeting, not during the feast, Ambassador. However, if you wish to discuss proposals beforehand, I am willing to set aside time to hear your concerns,” 

His tone was level, his face restricted but calm. He answered the question with ease causing Sokka to wonder if the other ambassadors had a tendency to gang up on the Fire Lord. _Tui and La, have they been bullying him this entire time?_

“Very well, Fire Lord Zuko, shall we convene after dinner?” Sokka was positive he saw Zuko’s eye twitch, but it seemed he was the only one to notice. 

“Absolutely,”

“Excellent,” Deming’s smile didn’t reach his eyes. Thankfully he didn’t press any further matters. The table returned to chatter, dignitaries asking one another about their families, their houses, the latest trends in their respective homelands, but Sokka remained quiet.

He picked at his food, his appetite lost. “Please excuse me, Chief Arnook, I’m- I’m feeling unwell,” Sokka said quietly to the tribal leader. Arnook nodded, waving Sokka away.

Without hesitation, he fled from the dining hall and back to his room, throwing himself onto the bed. He wasn’t lying per se, he really was feeling under the weather, but not in the nausea-filled, stomach churning, feverish way. He felt sad. It hit him in a sudden wave, washing over him and pulling him down into an ocean of despair. It wasn’t an uncommon occurrence for him. He’d learned through the years that the best way to cope was to lock himself away, in the quiet, in the dark, alone. It left him with lessened guilt if he was feeling glum by himself rather than in a room filled with people.

The feast wasn’t particularly interesting anyhow, and Sokka doubted anyone would miss him. The only interesting thing about it was watching Zuko, but he couldn’t spend the entire meal dumbstruck and staring at the Fire Lord.

Someone would notice. How would he explain it if someone asked? There was no excusable reason for why Sokka would be staring at Zuko longingly and it was better the vultures around him didn’t hone in on his feelings. It would be disastrous if the next bit of gossip floating around was about him.

* * *

Sokka had been lying awake, tossing and turning well into the night, when he was interrupted by a rasping at his door.

“Feiwen?” He said with a yawn upon seeing the ambassador standing outside his door.

“Ah, forgive me, Ambassador Sokka-”

“Sokka’s fine,” 

“Right, Sokka,” Feiwen smiled sheepishly, “right. Sorry, Sokka, I was unable to sleep and wondering if perhaps you’d like to stroll the city with me?” It was odd, Sokka thought, that Feiwen chose to knock on the door of a man he’d just met to stroll through the tundra at night.

He decided it best not to question it and against his better judgement agreed. What’s the worst that could happen? _You could be murdered,_ his mind offered up. At the thought, Sokka looked Feiwen over. Though he was supposedly a great bender, he didn’t pose as much a threat on terrain he couldn’t move.

Just in case, Sokka decided to fasten one of his boomerangs to the belt at his waist when he dressed. “They seem to have given you one of the larger suites,” Feiwen mused as he took a seat at the edge of Sokka’s bed, waiting for the tribesman to be ready.

“Probably because we’re closely related,” Sokka explained. He pulled off his nightshirt and exchanged it for a warmer tunic that he tucked into his sealskin trousers. The hairs on his arm stood on edge and Sokka glanced over his shoulder to find Feiwen watching him. 

“Oh, oh my word, I’m-I’m so sorry I just-” Feiwen looked away, a deep blush creeping onto his face. _Oh, oh no._ Sokka thought. 

“I get it, I zone out a lot too,” Sokka offered up in an attempt to save Feiwen from the embarrassment of being caught ogling him. 

“Right, yes, zoned out, that’s what I was,” Feiwen snapped his fingers followed by throwing up finger guns in Sokka’s direction. _Tui and La what is wrong with this man?_

Sokka decided to finish dressing, ignoring the knowledge that Feiwen was watching him deliberately.

When he’d pulled on his coat and boots he turned to Feiwen, “ready?”

“Yes!” Feiwen hopped off the bed, standing tall, and followed Sokka out of the room.

Sokka liked the Northern Water Tribe as well as anyone of his southern friends. Translation: He’d grown to dislike it the older he got. The tribes may have been sisters, but the North held a prestigious air about it, looking down on the barbaric southerners.

Perhaps things would have been different, had the waterbenders not been wiped out of the southern tribe. They wouldn’t have had to build their homes by hand, would have been able to protect their borders, and built a glistening citadel much like the streets of the one he presently walked.

Those were just buts and what ifs and maybes though. Much like Hakoda, Sokka sucked it up. The north wasn’t all bad. There was the spirit oasis, which Sokka had yet to visit. He wanted to wait, this time, until he was in the right mind to visit the spirits. He didn’t want to plague them with the negativity that had lately been surrounding him, they deserved more than that.

“It’s beautiful,” Feiwen said as they passed over the bridge above the canals.

“Yeah,” but Sokka was looking to the moon, nearly full, shining overhead.

She illuminated the snow, lighting the way for any venturing out in the dark of night. On this night there were only two.

“Sokka? Are you alright?” Sokka tore his eyes from Yue to look to Feiwen,

“What? Oh, yeah, I’m fine. Just, I’m just tired. I wasn’t able to sleep either, you know, but I think this walk is helping. Thank you, Feiwen.” Feiwen beamed at him.

“Of course, maybe we could do this another night!” Sokka thought on it for a moment, 

“Yeah, sure,” he agreed. Even if he couldn’t save his friendship with Zuko, at least Feiwen seemed interested in building one. Well, something more than just friends, but Sokka figured once Feiwen got to know him well enough, he’d be repulsed leaving Sokka nothing to fret over. 

He glanced back up to Yue as they circled back to the palace, his mind lost in another time.


	3. through mirrors we see

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This concept is living rent free in my mind, (help me)

There were plenty of things Zuko enjoyed about being fire lord.

He liked being capable of change, having his say in the matters of the nations, and proffering ideas that the others hadn’t thought of. He didn’t, however, like that there seemed to be a pattern in disregarding his opinions when the nations joined under one roof.

“Fire Lord Zuko, I _assure you_ that it is only _fair_ for the Fire Nation to pay for the repairs to the outer wall of Ba Sing Se. Natural causes or not, the wall wouldn’t have been weakened if it weren’t for your sister, Princess Azula.” Zuko’s fist clenched around the brush he was holding.

This was the third time in six years they had turned to the Fire Nation expectantly for repairs to the borders. The first time made sense, the Fire Nation destroyed it so they should fix it. Zuko wholeheartedly agreed, the second time made sense, the repairs hadn’t held up the way they should have so with the help of earthbenders, the Fire Nation fixed the wall again. This time, though, there had been an earthquake. The western part of the wall had collapsed causing massive amounts of damage to the homes of those just below it. Lives were lost. This, however, was not the cause of the Fire Nation and therefore the Earth Kingdom had no business asking him to fix their wall.

“With all due respect, Representative Bojing, had the wall collapsed where the Fire Nation had previously been involved in the restoration process, I would gladly aid your Kingdom in the repairs of it, again. However, this was a natural occurrence on the opposite side. I cannot invest in the reparations of both the wall _and_ protection details for the merchants walking the trade routes. Surely, earthbenders would be better suited for such an endeavor to begin with,” Zuko countered, tone punctilious.

Bojing narrowed his eyes and Zuko merely gazed back at him with a bored expression. Part of him hoped the representative would blow up at him, start yelling, it would be a change of pace from the drag that was the meeting.

It had been five hours, but Zuko felt he’d been stuck there for twelve. The council members droned on and on about raising taxes, doubling them for those traveling from one nation to the next, putting regulations on flying machines. Things Zuko either didn’t agree with, or wasn't allowed to interject upon, and when he did manage to squeeze in a comment he was ignored unless directly spoken too. So he’d made a game out of it. How much could he piss off the dignitaries without causing war? Apparently, he could get away with quite a lot.

He wasn’t being purposefully negligent of the other nation’s problems. Zuko was setting boundaries. The others, if they had it their way, would walk all over Zuko and the Fire Nation. They’d bat their eyes, pout their lips, and tell Zuko that because the Fire Nation caused one hundred years of hardships it was his job to fix their individual problems. Including the ones that had nothing to do with the Fire Nation. He would bend ever so often, but he maintained a firm stance on letting the other nations sort their internal affairs out themselves unless there was a long term benefit on his end. Nothing malicious, mostly trust. The Earth Kingdom trusted Zuko to funnel them funds to fix their infrastructure when they had plenty of money themselves. The royal family and those surrounding them were just greedy. He knew that, the ambassadors knew that, everyone knew that, but they’d found a cushion in relying on another nation to solve their problems. Problems he could no longer be held responsible for.

“If we are to pay your workers to rebuild _your_ wall, then they must also rebuild the businesses and homes of those who lost them in the quake.” Zuko stated, “the outer rim of Ba Sing Se is not the shining city you pretend it to be, Representative. Should you implement a bill to provide for your people accordingly, say by... lowering the taxes of the lower class and raising those of the upper class, then and only then would you have my support in rebuilding the wall.” Zuko admonished. Bojing’s face drew into a scowl.

“Perhaps Representative Bojing would like some time to think about that proposition,” Feiwen interjected, tugging on his comrade’s sleeve to pull him back into his seat.

“Perhaps,” Bojing muttered. Zuko quirked his brow at Bojing, a smug smile tugging at the corners of his mouth. _Agni_ knew how he loved angering the Earth Kingdom representatives. Arnook cleared his throat,

“Moving on, Ambassador Sokka of the Southern Water Tribe,” The room turned to Sokka, who was very obviously not paying attention.

“Huh? Sorry, I-” he flipped through the pages in front of him, “sorry, I seem to have misplaced- uhhh,” Arnook rolled his eyes,

“Why don’t we recess for an hour. Grab some fresh air and lunch then meet back here and I expect you to have your report, Ambassador.” Arnook directed the last statement to Sokka who nervously scratched the back of his head. Zuko stood, heading not for the door but for Sokka, only for Feiwen to snake his way in front of him.

“Sokka! Would you like to join me for lunch?” Sokka looked up to Feiwen, then over his shoulder to Zuko standing behind him. Zuko’s arms were crossed, his face donned what he hoped was a bored expression, as he waited to hear Sokka’s answer.

“I- sure,” Zuko’s jaw clenched. He stormed past Feiwen and Sokka, heading out the doors where Zaynab and Miura were stationed.

“My Lord!” Miura called after him, he ignored her.

“Fire Lord Zuko!” Koji, one of the noblemen who had attended the meeting with him, called. Zuko stopped his tantrum, turning to the noblemen.

“Yes?” Koji, a man in his later thirties, caught up to him.

“Forgive me, My Lord, but I was hoping we could quickly go over the plans for the rail line before presenting it.” It was a good idea, but Zuko couldn’t think of plans and proposals when his mind was swirling with questions and resentment.

“Let us discuss the matter this evening, the Earth Kingdom representatives still have more to share and it seems as though Ambassador Sokka also has quite a bit to go over as well. It will be some time before our turn.” he assured the noblemen who bowed.

“Of course, Fire Lord Zuko, tonight it is then,” Koji let him be and Zuko was about to take off back in whatever direction he was headed when he stopped.

“Zaynab!” The Kyoshi Warrior was by his side almost immediately causing him to jump,

“Yes, Lord Zuko?”

“I-sorry, I didn’t realize you were so close,”

“I wasn’t,” he eyed her,

“ _Right,_ well, ah, is there a bath house?” she nodded to the left and began moving. Zuko followed after her.

* * *

The bath house was nestled between the guest rooms for easy accessibility. Being it was midday, Zuko thought now was the perfect time to wash up. He’d been sweating profusely when going head to head with representative Bojing causing his heavy robes to cling to his skin. Though the inside of the palace was kept warm compared to the outdoors, he was still cold from the sweat on his skin.

Zaynab and Miura had inspected the showers first for assassins and the like. When they gave the all clear, Miura handed Zuko a change of clothes and a towel promising to let him know when it was fifteen minutes til the meeting. He thanked her and headed into the steam filled room.

He turned the water to hot, letting it warm up as he began stripping off his robes while humming to himself. It happened fast. One second Zuko was undressing, the next he heard footsteps rushing him, and before he had the chance to react, he was grabbed from behind, one hand clasped over his mouth, the other grabbing his arm and shoving him into the shower stall. Zuko, still half dressed, was hit by the hot water. It started soaking through his trousers causing them to cling to his skin.

“Shh, don’t yell, _please,_ I need to hide,” the voice breathing into his ear was all too familiar. With his free arm, Zuko elbowed the man behind him receiving an _‘oof’_ in response, the hand on his mouth loosened. He turned, pushing the man against the wall, Zuko's forearm against his assailant's throat. A golden glare met a wide-eyed ocean as Zuko hissed out,

“What the _fuck_ are you doing, Sokka?” Sokka covered his mouth again, shushing him, then pointed to the opening. Two pairs of footsteps approached the stall, echoing throughout the bathhouse. Zuko and Sokka turned to look out into the hall, the curtain still wide open.

“Sir! you can’t be in here right now.” Miura’s voice echoed,

“I _understand_ that, but I swear I saw Ambassador Sokka run in here,” it was Deming’s nasally little voice speaking. Zuko removed his arm from Sokka's throat, raising his brow at Sokka who held a finger up to his lips, pleading for Zuko to remain silent. Zuko quickly shut the shower curtain, hiding them from sight. The sound of curtain hooks sliding against the shower rods proceeded in swift succession getting louder and louder as Deming approached the stall containing the Fire Lord and Ambassador.

Shadows showed a hand reaching out to grab the curtain of Zuko’s stall, then another hand quickly grabbing that one.

“I _cannot_ allow you to invade the Fire Lord’s privacy like that, sir.” Miura’s tone was harsh, threatening. If she killed Deming, Zuko decided he would give her a raise. Deming huffed, tapping his foot. Zuko inwardly groaned but made the decision to stick his head out the shower stall,

“Is everything alright, Representative Deming?” he asked. Deming took a step back.

“Have you seen Ambassador Sokka?” the representative asked without so much as a formal greeting. Zuko made a point to remember the failure to show respect in case he needed it for a later date.

“Tell me, Representative, why would I, a man showering in the nude, have seen Ambassador Sokka? It isn’t like he ran into my stall, grabbed me from behind to stop me from screaming, and told me to be quiet so he could hide from you.” Zuko said in a joking tone, “why are _you_ looking for the Ambassador?” Deming stammered, trying to come up with a reasonable response, Zuko assumed. “Right, if that’s all-Miura,” Miura grabbed Deming by his arm to escort the stuttering representative out of the bathhouse.

When their footsteps faded and the only thing to be heard was the sound of the door closing and the beating of the hot water against Zuko and Sokka’s bodies, he turned to face the water tribesman.

Zuko jabbed an accusatory finger into Sokka’s chest, backing him against the stall wall once again. “What the fuck, _Sokka. What the fuck?_ ” Sokka visibly swallowed.

“I-I’m sorry, he just- I- I wasn't thinking,"

“Obviously not,” Zuko chided, “I thought you were at lunch with Feiwen,”

“I was, but Bojing wanted to speak with him and then Deming tried to ambush me. He’s got a terrible habit of wanting to talk policies outside of meeting rooms,” Sokka explained while rubbing the back of his neck.

“So, what? You ran from him?” Zuko took a step back, crossing his arms he stared up at Sokka, watching his reactions.

“What? Pft, _no!_ ” Sokka began, “it was more so…a...a very fast walk until I was out of sight. Then I ran away.” Zuko couldn’t hold it in, he laughed. The image of Sokka swiftly walking away from Deming, something Zuko often found himself wanting to do, played on repeat in his mind.

“How did you get past Miura and Zaynab?” Zuko inquired as his laughter began to die down,

“Ah, _that,_ I told Miura the situation, promised I wouldn’t kill you, and she _uh,_ she let me in.” Zuko rolled his eyes,

“Well, you’ve been saved. I suggest you move along and get changed,” 

“Changed?” Sokka looked down at his wet clothes seemingly oblivious to the water pouring from the shower. “Oh,” he looked to Zuko, eyes traveling from his soaked trousers up along his bare torso to pause at his lips for a brief moment before flickering up to meet Zuko’s eyes. Zuko shivered under Sokka’s scrutinizing gaze feeling too bare, too exposed, too _seen_. _Agni, help me,_

“Sorry,” Sokka muttered. He pulled back the curtains letting in the cool air of the rest of the bath house. Zuko quickly pulled the curtains closed again when Sokka left before removing his sopping wet trousers.

* * *

He had half a mind to call out sick and avoid the rest of the day, but Zuko knew better. Everyone was expected to be in full attendance during the ten day stretch, especially him. Were he to be absent, the others would come up with some outlandish lie that Zuko would be forced to deal with on top of the standard brand of politics he was accustomed to.

He didn’t skip.

He looked himself over in the mirror, adjusting his headpiece and the collar of his gold, red, and maroon robes. He looked like a stranger standing there in regal garb, hair long and pulled back upon his head. He turned his head to the left, examining his unblemished skin on the right side of his face only to scowl at how much he had grown to resemble his father. He turned his head to the right, looking over the scar on his left eye, and scowled again. If he didn't look like his father, then he was looking at a reminder of him. The man who had caused him and everyone he’d come to love and care for so much pain.

Anger swelled within him and for a moment he wanted to send his fist through the mirror. He wanted to shatter the image of his father, erase the shadow in which he stood, and be seen for himself. If he couldn’t see his reflection, it wasn't true. None of it. He could pretend that he wasn't merely the banished-prince-turned-Fire-Lord, the fraud at the table, a kid playing dress-up in his parents clothes. He couldn't pretend though, any and everyone who surrounded him reminded him consistently. They reminded him that he wasn't his own person, that his title- his reputation--his identity would always be linked to Ozai and Azulon and worst yet, Sozin. He would regularly be reminded that a century of war rested upon his shoulders, was now his burden to bear, and it was his job to make reparations for the actions of his forefathers. Rarely was there a soul who gazed upon the Fire Lord and thought, he can make this right. They were all waiting for him to fuck up. He was waiting for himself to fuck up.

Zuko tore his attention away from the mirror to head for the councilroom. He handed Miura his soaked clothes, receiving an amused look as he did so. She was lucky he liked her or he might have had something to say about the situation to Suki. Not that Suki would have done much to reprimand Miura for letting Sokka into the bath house, she would have found the entire thing just as comical.

Zuko was, unfortunately, late to the continued meeting. Between Sokka grabbing him, Deming trying to peep on him, and his own self loathing he had lost track of time even with Miura’s warning.

Arnook cleared his throat, “I believe it’s time for Ambassador Sokka’s report--where is Ambassador Sokka?” Everyone seated turned their attention to the empty chair at the end of the table nearest the door.

“Last I saw of him was near the bathhouse,” Deming admitted. He looked to Zuko briefly. The Fire Lord’s face warmed as he thought to Sokka. His skin tingled where the tribesman gripped his arm. He remembered the way those ocean eyes had slowly looked him over and Zuko felt exposed again.

“Hm, I find it inappropriate to carry on without him. Lornak, check his quarters, perhaps he fell asleep or lost track of time,” the chieftain was looking at Zuko as he made the last comment. Zuko remained silent, his lips drawing into a thin line at the call out.

It wasn’t like he could defend himself. If he told them that Sokka had ambushed him, Deming would know he had lied and they would have substance to start some hairbrained rumor. Zuko could imagine it now _‘Fire Lord Zuko and Ambassador Sokka Caught in a Steamy Moment,’_ he internally laughed. He and Sokka? Wouldn’t that be a sight. _Sokka would have to want to talk to me for that to happen,_ not that Zuko wanted that. No, he wanted his friend back, nothing more.

“Right away sir,” Lornak answered as he exited the room, heading for Sokka’s room.

Arnook sighed, “Maybe it is best to adjourn for the day, we covered a lot of ground.”

“An excellent suggestion Chieftain Arnook, my colleagues and I have to prepare tomorrow’s reports anyhow,” Bojing spoke, Zuko could have sworn he heard Arnook groan.

“Very well then, meet back tomorrow bright and early,” everyone stood to leave, everyone but Zuko. He waited until Bojing, Deming, Aiguo, and Feiwen filtered out of the room along with his own company, Koji and Daichi. He waited until it was only him and Arnook in the room.

“Chief,” Zuko began, “if I may, I have a...a heavy request,” he stood, positioning himself between Arnook and the door.

“What is it, Fire Lord Zuko?” Zuko swallowed the nerves building in his chest, reminding himself silently that the worst that could happen was a ‘no’.

“Chief, with your blessing, I- I would like to pay my respects to the spirits.” He didn’t need to elaborate further, the understanding was written all across Arnook’s face and that understanding? It spelled grief. Zuko maintained eye contact and posture hoping that if he looked the part of Fire Lord as best he could, if he looked the part of a grown man instead of a kid, then perhaps Arnook would be able to look past-

“ _No._ ” The word held weight, bitter and sad. “I cannot allow that Lord Zuko. The last time you were in the North, the last time you were in the oasis- _no_. You would need someone who has been there to escort you, someone from the tribe, and I assure you no one will agree.” Zuko closed his eyes, absorbing the words. He knew it was coming, knew it was silly to ask, but he had to try. 

“I understand, Chief Arnook, but...if you’ll hear what I have to say-”

“No! Nothing you have to say will change my mind. No man, woman, or child of my tribe would be willing to escort you to the Spirit Oasis and if by some chance one of them were to decide to do such a thing, I would not allow it. You are not to set foot in the oasis without a guide and you have no guide to take you,”

A familiar voice spoke up from behind him, “I’ll take him,”

Arnook and Zuko turned their attention to the doorway. Standing there, looking a little worse for wear, was Sokka.


	4. for the moon we burn

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> if you've read this chapter already, you'll find i've combined 4 and 5 to one chapter for _reasons_  
>  CW: Character violence

_Spirits forgive me,_ Sokka had thought just before opening his mouth. “I’ll take him,” he wasn’t sure what possessed him to think that offering to escort the Fire Lord to the Spirit Oasis was a good idea. It didn’t score him any brownie points with Arnook- if anything he’d lost all respect the man had for him. That wasn’t a major concern for Sokka though. The major concern was that he had offered to take the man he was hopelessly still in love with to sacred grounds. Alone. The man he had run away from, given the cold shoulder too, and then invaded the space of by hiding in his shower. It was suddenly very clear, _I have no sense of self preservation._

“Excuse me?” Arnook demanded an explanation, staring Sokka down, but he pressed on,

“I said, I’ll take him. I know my way to the Spirit Oasis and I’ve been meaning to visit anyhow, I can show the Fire Lord the way,” Flashes of emotion crossed Arnook’s face, his eyes trying to convey to Sokka that his suggestion was inappropriate. The ambassador stood his ground.

“No, Ambassador Sokka, you will not. Only someone of _my_ tribe is allowed to do such a thing and as I have already said no one from _my_ tribe is willing to take him.” Arnook’s ownership of the north rang heavy in the air. It was always ‘our tribes’, a shared ownership of sister nations. The partnership evaporated before him as he watched Arnook’s anger and grief overtake him. “I expect better from you, Ambassador Sokka. Blindly trusting the Fire Nation after all that has happened, after all they have done to you and I-”

“ _Ozai’s_ Fire Nation,” Sokka interrupted. He refused to look at Zuko, pretending the man wasn’t there. It helped his thoughts flow like a river emptying out into an ocean, his words waves crashing over the leaders. “That was _Ozai’s_ Fire Nation. Zuko was a victim of Ozai just as much as my home, my mother, and your daughter. He’s trying to make things right, in the six short years since his coronation he’s pulled troops from our nations, reformed the schooling system in the Fire Nation, returned conquered territories to their original rule, and helped rebuild the Earth Kingdom and the Air Temples.”

Arnook opened his mouth to speak, but Sokka cut him off, “I am well aware that what he has done does not erase a hundred years of hardships, believe me, but ignoring the change will only further the divide between all of us. Whether you change your mind about the Spirit Oasis or not is irrelevant, but I suggest you consider changing your mind on the treatment of the Fire Lord.” Sokka looked to Zuko who stood staring at him, eyes wide in shock, and Sokka couldn’t tell if it was he or Zuko who was shaking- maybe both.

Arnook shut his mouth, his eyes flickering from Sokka to Zuko and back. He eyed them for a few moments until finally he let out a low, “hm,”

“Chief Arnook-” Arnook raised his hand, silencing Zuko. The Fire Lord stepped back.

“I will carry the weight of your words with me, Ambassador, but I will not change my stance on the Spirit Oasis. The last time a firebender entered, my daughter did not come out. Understand while Fire Lord Zuko may not be completely at fault, the safety of the spirits is a priority.” Zuko chose this moment to bow low, leaving Sokka and Arnook to stare at him, then each other.

“I understand Chief Arnook, I will respect your wishes. If you will excuse me, Governor Koji and I have proposals to look over before tomorrow’s meeting,” without a word of dismissal, Zuko left.

Sokka watched the Fire Lord retreat, his eyes lingering on the door a little too long before returning his attention to Arnook.

“Hm,” Arnook said again, eyes on Sokka. His face warmed under the scrutiny.

“I hope there are no feelings of ill will between us, I promise my intention is not to undermine you.” Arnook didn’t respond, he walked past Sokka and out the door signalling for the guards standing outside to follow him. 

* * *

It was a foolish idea, a high risk low reward type of idea, but it had been in Sokka’s mind since he’d spoken to Arnook. It was this foolish idea that had Sokka sneaking out of his room at three in the morning, away from the posted guards, and down the hall to Zuko’s room. Zaynab and Akemi stood outside the Fire Lord’s door. Directly outside. There was no sneaking for Sokka now. He approached the door only to be stopped when Zaynab stepped in front of him.

“The Fire Lord is sleeping,” she was like the terrain that spread for miles around them. _Ice._ Sokka huffed, trying to come up with something to get him through that door. He looked the warrior over. The red paint around her eyes caused the blue of them to stand out vibrantly, _blue_. _Blue eyes._

“You’re not from the south,” Sokka stated. Zaynab’s make up shifted as she raised her brows at Sokka’s speculation. 

“No,” she confirmed, _interesting_. Sokka could work with this. The warrior was of the North which meant she would do one of two things if told of Sokka’s plan. 1. She would stop him, incapacitate him where he stood. 2. She would let him pass. He assumed option one was the most likely result.

“I want to take the Fire Lord to see the Moon.” Sokka said cryptically, his eyes glancing to Akemi who was checking her nails. Zaynab narrowed her eyes, the message seeming to be received clearly.

“Why would I let you do something as reckless as that?” 

“He needs closure, Arnook won’t let him go...as much as I respect the Chief...he needs this.” Zaynab’s harsh stare faltered, her posture loosening, the ice melting. It looked as though she had exhaled a large breath. The warrior looked over her shoulder to the Fire Lord’s chambers, then to her comrade, and finally back at Sokka.

“Fine, but I’m coming with you,” Sokka beamed at her. “Wait,” Zaynab nodded to Akemi then whispered “head back towards your room, count to fifty, and then come back.” Sokka peered past Zaynab to look at Akemi again. The girl seemed to be picking at a hangnail and paying little attention to either of them. He looked back to Zaynab then took a step back, took in a breathe, and said, 

“ _Dang it,_ you drive a hard bargain. Alright, you’ve won this round...uh, Kyoshi Warrior.” He pulled out his absolute best acting. It would have been better had he not realized he didn’t know the warrior’s name. He turned on his heel and headed back for his room. Once he rounded the corner, out of sight of either woman, he began counting. When finally he reached fifty, he stepped back out into the corridor where there was only Zaynab left.

“Did you kill her?” 

“What? No? I told her to take the rest of the night off. If you want to do this stealthily, the less people knowing the better.” Zaynab nodded to the door, “now...go get him.” 

“You’re not coming in?” Sokka asked,

“It would seem odd for the Fire Lord’s door to be absent of his guards if someone were to walk by,” Sokka furrowed his brow. She didn’t want to come in to keep people from thinking something was up, but she wanted to go with them to the oasis? Something wasn’t adding up. He eyed her suspiciously as he backed up to the door then vanished into the darkness of Zuko’s room.

Sokka shut the door quietly behind him then waited, allowing his eyes to adjust to the lack of light. As shadows faintly formed around the room, he inched towards Zuko’s bed. The Fire Lord was asleep on his side, back to where Sokka approached, hair spilling over the pillows of his cot. He reached a hand out, tapping Zuko’s shoulder and suddenly he knew exactly why Zaynab stayed outside the room.

Zuko grabbed Sokka’s wrist, his skin hot to the touch, _burning._ He didn’t have the chance to pull away. Zuko pulled on him, using Sokka’s weight to hoist himself up and toss Sokka onto the bed. He landed on his back with Zuko straddled on top of him, a scorching hand at Sokka’s throat. The room illuminated as Zuko’s other fist blazed with fire. Sokka was sweating, choking, tears formed in his eyes from the pain of his arm and neck. The flame neared Sokka’s face and Zuko gasped. He tore his hand from Sokka’s neck, the flame near him extinguished.

“ _Agni, no._ ” Sokka gasped for air, for relief. _Tui and La it hurts._ Zuko scrambled off of Sokka, helping him sit up. “I’m sorry, by the Spirits, Sokka I am so sorry I thought-”

“It’s okay,” Sokka croaked, “you were protecting yourself,” the cot creaked as Zuko stood and a moment later the room was illuminated by a lantern.

“I should have checked,” Zuko argued, taking a seat next to Sokka. 

“Checking is the difference between life and death for you,” Zuko was examining the damage he’d caused when Sokka spoke. Slowly, the firebender’s gaze shifted to looking Sokka in the eyes. Zuko’s eyes burned like the handprint on Sokka’s neck, painfully. Sokka’s breath hitched,

“How would you- did- do you read my letters?” 

_“Yes,”_ Sokka breathed. Zuko’s face twisted with frustration, the questions Sokka assumed he had seemed to be swirling within him, but he didn’t ask. Which was almost worse.

“What are you doing here, Sokka?” Zuko pulled away, sitting as far away as he could without being off the cot.

“Well, I was invited to spend ten days in metaphorical hell, so,”

“ _In my room,_ Sokka! What are you doing in my room?” The lantern flared,

“I came to take you to the oasis,” Sokka said softly, Zuko jerked his head to look at him.

“But Arnook-”

“Fuck Arnook, I understand his grief, but you need this too. There’s no part of me that thinks Yue would want her father to hold onto this the way he is.” Sokka claimed, leaning towards Zuko.

“Even so, we- you should see a healer,” Zuko gestured to Sokka’s neck. As much as his neck burned with pain, the thought of seeing a healer made his gut twist. If he saw a healer, if someone saw the burn, Zuko and the other firebenders attending the council meeting would lose any semblance of trust they had built. That trust was small, wire thin. The weight of an injured ambassador, and not just any injured ambassador but Sokka, a water tribesman, would snap the wire clean through. Arnook would throw Zuko out without batting an eye.

“No, better to let it heal on its own,” 

“Sokka that will take forever,” 

“Then forever it will take, and when I return home, I’ll see Katara about it. She’ll be more understanding than anyone here,” Sokka watched Zuko, watched him shift as they spoke, watched the understanding that fell over the Fire Lord.

“At least let me bandage you up,” Zuko stood again, grabbing the lantern he rushed to the trunk stowed away in a corner. Carefully, he set down the lantern to rummage through it. When he found what he needed, he returned to the cot where Sokka was now positioned on the edge of, feet flat on the floor, sat up straight.“Of course you have bandages,” Sokka teased him,

“I’m a firebender with a temper, they’re a necessity. Even if I’m better at controlling my emotions now,” Zuko smiled and Sokka couldn’t help but smile back. “Now hold still, this is going to sting,” Sokka snorted, but did as told. He tilted his head back, giving Zuko easier access to the fresh burn. He sucked in a pained breath when Zuko touched it. He was gentle, his touch feather light, as he applied a salve over the puffed up skin. It was cooling, the salve, and Sokka thought he could feel steam rising around his face from the initial contact.

“Bear with me, I’m going to rub this in slightly,” as soon as Zuko changed his rhythm, put pressure on his touch, Sokka clenched his fists. A whimper of pain rose in his throat and when it escaped Zuko whispered, “I’m sorry,” again. The rubbing sensation stopped and Zuko fastened a bandage around Sokka’s neck.

“That’s not too tight, is it?” Sokka bent his head left and then right then rotated it around to loosen up the muscles that had tightened from holding it back. He winced with every motion but kept at it, testing the wrap.

“No, it’s just right. Thank you,” Sokka stood and stretched then turned to Zuko,

“I’m not done with you, Ambassador.” Zuko scolded, “give me your wrist, I know I burned that too.” Sokka sat back down immediately like a child that had been reprimanded by their parents.

He held out his wrist, a perfect pink hand print puckered against his dark skin. Zuko grabbed Sokka’s hand, holding it in his, while he applied the salve in another series of feather light touches like a lover's gentle kisses. His wrist didn’t hurt as badly as his neck so when Zuko rubbed in the salve a bit, he wasn’t overcome by physical reaction, much to his relief. Zuko wrapped a bandage around the wrist tying a knot to hold it in place, with his hand holding Sokka’s he looked the tribesman in the eye.

“Ready?” Sokka asked, his eyes focused on the hand holding his.

“Are you sure? I don’t want to disrespect Arnook,” 

“Arnook has disrespected you,” Sokka looked up to find Zuko staring at him, his face revealing fear, anxiety, and a mix of something Sokka couldn’t quite place. An emotion so deeply rooted, he couldn’t reach the source. He didn’t know Zuko the way he once had, and yet he still knew him. He still knew something was wrong, something he was burying inside of him, something Sokka had left him alone to deal with. Guilt flooded him, though Zuko’s well being wasn’t his responsibility, it mattered to him. All Sokka wanted was to see him smile, and to see that smile reach his eyes. 

“I- alright, just let me get dressed.” Zuko caved. It was then that Sokka realized Zuko was bare chested and in loose sleeping trousers. Sokka couldn’t help himself, he watched Zuko dress, his eyes tracing over his muscles as they flexed with movement, then over the scars that littered his body. He knew the story of nearly every scar he saw, all but one. It was on the left side of Zuko’s back between the shoulder blade and the ribcage. The scar was in a circular shape with deep jagged ridges fused into it and stitch marks on either side of those ridges, it was almost like a swirl, or a star but it had layers. Deep and jagged much like Zuko, and Sokka knew that the scar held a tale that would break him. He wanted to ask about it, wanted to know who had dared to give it to him, wanted to make the culprit suffer at his own hand, but he looked away.

“Ready,” Zuko said after a few moments and Sokka stood, he grabbed and tugged on Zuko’s hand forcing him to follow out of the room.

Zaynab jerked to attention as the pair exited Zuko’s room. She glanced to their hands, a shadow of smile gracing her features, before returning to her usual stone cold demeanor. Sokka nodded for her to follow and she did.

With a little help from the Kyoshi Warrior, the trio navigated the city until they reached a wall with a wooden door frame carved out of it with a circular door. Zaynab opened the door to the oasis, gesturing for them to enter. Sokka let go of Zuko’s hand to duck down and pass through the doorway. Zuko followed closely behind him with Zaynab taking up the rear. They paused on the platform with Zaynab closing the door firmly behind them. Before them was a cove with two pathways on the left and the right that led across to a flourishing garden. In the center of the garden was a pond with two koi fish swimming round and round.

Sokka took the left pathway across the cove and as they went the temperature rose and he slowly stripped off layers of warm clothing. He glanced back, making sure Zuko was following, and was surprised to see the Fire Lord was still fully dressed. He looked wide awake, attentive, which was surprising for the time of night, but it probably helped that Sokka had startled Zuko awake. He briefly touched the bandage on his wrist, hyper aware of the one on his neck. He would have to be cautious of what he wore for the rest of his stay, he would need to keep the burn wrapped but would also need to keep the wrap under wraps.

When they approached the pond with the black and white koi fish, Sokka kneeled before it and bowed low. _Forgive me, Spirits, but I couldn’t let him be shunned._ He thought. He adjusted, sitting up and crossing his legs. With eyes closed, Sokka spoke a prayer from his heart asking for guidance as an ambassador, a friend, and as a man. He may have been called a genius a time or two, but when it came to matters of the heart, Sokka was about as smart as a fire ferret. 

He prayed for Zuko, for his protection, for his safety, and for his patience and understanding as he went about rekindling their friendship. After seeing him, after talking to him, after feeling his touch, Sokka didn’t want to lose him again. He didn’t want to push him away anymore.

He sat there for a long while losing track of time until he’d said all he needed to say, until he prayed for everything he needed to pray for, until he felt at peace. _Thank you, Yue_.

Sokka rose, looking to his right where Zuko was still bent low in prayer. As if he could feel the weight of Sokka’s gaze, Zuko slowly rose as well. Their eyes locked, the space between them filled with the heaviness of unsaid sentiment.

Sokka was on a walking path in the frozen tundra, and above him was a cliff of ice and snow. Suddenly, he was trying to outrun an avalanche that was crashing down around him. The avalanche was his feelings, thirty-seven months and fourteen days of yearning ready to bury him as he stared at Zuko.

“Excuse me,” Zaynab interrupted, “We should head back, Fire Lord Zuko." _Don't want to risk getting caught,_ Sokka thought. But Zaynab was right, the longer they stayed, the more Zuko was at risk. 

"I'll come with you." Sokka stood, ready to leave. From his seated position, Zuko protested.

"No, that's alright, I wouldn't want someone suspecting you if I'm caught." It made sense, Zuko was accepting responsibility and didn’t want any tension between the north and south, but that didn’t mean Sokka liked his decision. He wanted to be by the firebender for as long as he would allow it, but it seemed Zuko had had enough of him for the day. It was late…

“Alright,” Sokka sighed, “go on, I’ll...I’ll linger a bit longer until I’m sure you’re back in your room.” Zuko smiled to him,

“Thank you, Sokka. For bringing me here, I...I needed this,” Zuko stood as he spoke, stopping a few inches shorter than Sokka. He bowed, catching the tribesman off guard, before pivoting on his heel and following Zaynab out of the oasis. Sokka sat back down and watched them leave. He stared at the door for a long while after their departure, the burn on his neck rivaling the burn in his heart for attention.

* * *

The stars were twinkling, dancing. Their lights ebbed in an out with the tempo of the music creating a show in the sky. The music was low, calm, melodious, a hum in his heart, but then the music picked up. The stars blinked more intensely. _Blink...blink...blink_ turned into _blinkblinkblink_ and then it was dark. The music was gone. Sokka stood in darkness.

A cry rose in his chest as he ran, searching for something, anything. Music thundered back to life, the volume so startlingly loud he fell back. Sokka scrambled away on his elbows using his feet to push him onward, but the stars began to glow. It was a soft and dim glow that grew brighter and brighter until he was blinded, covering his eyes with his arm to protect them from the intensity. The thunderous music was now one long unwavering note. He laid there, on his back, eyes covered for a long while until he gave up, gave in. Sokka moved his arm, opened his eyes, and stared into the light.

What should have left him blind, what should have burned his eyes from his sockets had no affect on him physically. He stared, and stared, and suddenly he was crying for the stars glowed with different intensities to create the outline of a dragon dancing in fire. It spoke his name, _Sokka_. He leaned up on his elbows, listening intently, _Sokka_

“Ambassador Sokka!” Sokka sat up with enough force he sent himself flying backwards out of his chair, breaking it by the shift of his weight and the force of the impact. He groaned from his place on the ground as his surroundings began to familiarize themselves. _Stars, music, fire, dragon,_ he thought. _Meeting, ah, fuck me,_

“Er, Ambassador Sokka? Are you alright?” Bojing asked. He, Deming, Feiwen, Aiguo, and Koji were staring intently at Sokka from where they stood, peering over the table. Feiwen offered Sokka a hand, he took it and the earthbender yanked him to his feet. Sokka sucked in a breath, the burn on his arm stinging from Feiwen’s grip. He ripped his arm away, holding it to his chest, and nodded a thanks to Feiwen.

“I’m fine,” Sokka acknowledged Bojing’s question. “Just, didn’t get much sleep last night,” his eyes flickered to Zuko.

The Fire Lord looked like he was barely affected by their nightly escapade, eyes alert and unaffected, but they seemed...still. Something was definitely off, but not noticeably enough for the others to call him on it. Sokka, however, wasn’t as good at pretending. Between staying up nearly all night and his body working to heal the burns he’d received, he was exhausted. It didn’t help that he was wearing his heaviest robes, products of an early morning stop he’d made in the market to purchase something with a higher collar than he would normally adorn. They were soft, cozy, Sokka was experiencing Peak Comfort with every moment he spent in them. It was the perfect storm. Lack of sleep, injury, comfy clothes, Bojing droning on and on and on about things that had already been discussed the prior day. Mix those all together and it was a recipe for Sokka to fall asleep.

“Are you certain you needn’t be seen by one of our healers?” Arnook asked pointedly,

“I’m positive,” Sokka confirmed, “now,” he took a seat on the floor atop his broken chair. “What was the question?” 

He sat like that the rest of the meeting, no one made any wisecrack remarks at him, and no one asked if he wanted a new chair. It was a punishment and a statement rolled into one. When, finally, it was Sokka’s turn to speak, he stood. He looked his peers in the eye when addressing them, all but Zuko. He feared stumbling over his words or a red creeping onto his cheeks, he feared letting something slip. So he didn’t let it happen, avoided it at all costs.

“You hungry?” Feiwen asked when the meeting had adjourned, “I heard there’s going to be a festival tonight in the streets, ice sculpting challenges, a bender’s ballet, lots of food. Lots. of. Food. What say you?” The representative smiled widely, his teeth a brilliant white rivaled only by the snow covered lands around them. 

“Not today, Feiwen. I’m really tired, sorry,” Feiwen’s smile faltered,

“What if, consider this, it’s not until seven. It’s three right now. That’s plenty of time for you to nap, shower, and get dressed. It’ll be my treat,” the representative’s emerald eyes gleamed pleadingly. “Please?” Sokka almost said no, but when Zuko caught his eye as he left the meeting room with Akemi chatting up as she escorted him out, Sokka thought better of it.

“You know what? That’s a great idea, if I’m not up by 6:45, you have my permission to break the door down.” Feiwen’s smile solidified,

“Great, see you tonight!” the representative left the room, rushing off to only the spirits know where. 

* * *

Luckily for Sokka, Feiwen didn’t need to break the door down. Around six-thirty, Sokka went searching for him. He had managed to eat, shower, and sleep and woke feeling surprisingly refreshed. He wasn’t completely cured of exhaustion, but he wasn’t about to break another chair. Well, he hoped he wasn’t. Sokka caught Feiwen just as the representative was leaving his room and greeted the representative with a wide smile and a wave. “You ready?” Feiwen’s mouth curved into a shy smile and he nodded his head,

“Yeah, I’m ready. Do you like dancing?” 

The festival was bright, colourful lanterns lined the streets and shops illuminating the city. The snow and ice glittered iridescently from the various lights and one might argue it felt like walking on a star. For a city so cold the square was filled with heat, steam rolling out from various shops offering authentic cuisine from all over the nations. Then there was the dancing, bodies packed tightly together on a makeshift dance floor. There were a variety of customs being shared on the dance floor, but most were water tribe.

It wasn’t a surprise when Sokka found himself in the middle of the makeshift dance floor dancing among dozens of people. Feiwen was laughing and dancing with him, the thunderous beating of drums influencing their steps. Sokka taught him traditional Southern Water Tribe movements which the earthbender also recognized as waterbending techniques.

Bending was like dancing, about step count, breathing, and the flow of energy through one’s body, it was not uncommon that events such as the Bending Ballets and other performative arts had come into being throughout history. It was beautiful,

Sokka spied the stars twinkling brightly overhead, _stars, music,_ “Step right up! Step right up! Who’s ready to challenge the amazing Panuk of the North? All bending types welcome, but only the strong of heart may enter!” An announcer’s voice cut through the music, catching Sokka’s attention. He looked past Feiwen, who followed his gaze, 

“Oh, cool, did you wanna watch?” 

“Yeah…” Feiwen grabbed Sokka’s hand and the tribesman let him lead him through the crowd to the makeshift ring that had been set up for bending matches. The 12x10 ring was made of wood and ice with the ice barriers three feet in height and wooden boards lining the top of that.

“You there! Yes you! Do you bend?” A girl shied away, anxious at the sudden call out. She shook her head before running away, pushing past Feiwen and Sokka. “Tough blow folks, looks like we might not have any more matches tonight,” 

“I’ll do it!” Feiwen dropped Sokka’s hand to wave his own in the air. “I just need some earth,” 

“Are you sure?” Sokka questioned,

“Absolutely!” Feiwen beamed,

“You heard it hear folks! We’ve got ourselves a contestant, get the man some dirt!” The announcer yelled back to a few of the festival workers who quickly scrambled away grabbing for anything made of clay, rock, or mud. “What’s your name sir?” 

“Feiwen,” 

“Mm, well Mister Feiwen, you a good bender? Cuz I’ve been watching this guy for the last hour, he will eat you up if you can’t handle yourself out there,” the vocal facade didn’t drop even as the announcer shared the bit of info with Feiwen, but the representative was firm in his stance. 

“He doesn’t scare me, it’s all in good fun after all.” Feiwen looked to Sokka, giving him a thumbs up, just as the workers rushed over to him with bits of earth to work with. A large clay pot nearly half the size of Sokka, a few miscellaneous stones, and a pair of stone bracelets.

“Good luck!” Sokka called. 

Feiwen handed Sokka his large fur lined coat, allowing him more movement without it. He had the bits of earth set on the ground in the ring in front of him. The benders bowed to one another then straightened.

At the sound of a bell, Panuk was shifting his footing, maneuvering the water to whip out at Feiwen who dodged it. Feiwen stood on his tiptoes as he moved, every step, every shift of a finger methodical and calculating. He watched, listened, and waited. When he spied an opening, he slammed down onto his heels, the clay pot broke into pieces and Feiwen sent them flying at Panuk. 

Tendrils of water knocked one, two, three pieces out of the air, but the fourth got through. Feiwen widened his stance and raised his right hand slightly then quickly jerked it inward and down. The clay piece followed, colliding with Panuk’s hand. The water he’d been bending fell to the ground. The earthbender sent stone after stone hurling at the waterbender forcing them into defense.

Panuk dodged and staggered until his back was pressed against the edge of the ring, Feiwen raised both hands, the bracelets rising from their place on the ground, he flicked his wrists outward and the bracelets soared through the air. He turned his hands, palms upwards, and flicked his wrists inward. The bracelets clamped around Panuk’s wrists, holding him against the barrier. 

Sokka was slack jawed, wide eyed, staring at Feiwen in disbelief. He’d managed to best a waterbender on their own turf with the use of a pot, some stones, and two bracelets. Toph would be screaming in excitement when she found out. Sokka met Feiwen at the side of the ring, to congratulate him on his victory.

“Eight! Nine! Ten!! We’ve got a winner folks! With some seriously fancy footwork, Feiwen of the Earth Kingdom claims victory. Anyone dare to challenge him? You there,” the announcer went about pointing from attendee to attendee trying to wrangle someone into the ring. Just when it seemed the announcer had given up, he pointed to a man standing at the back of the crowd.

“You! In the back! With the ladies! What about you sir?” Sokka and Feiwen followed the direction the announcer was pointing and Sokka nearly choked. 

There, standing with Akemi and Miura on either side of him, was Zuko. He was dressed more casually, his head piece nowhere to be seen, his hair plaited down his back. He almost looked...normal. Without the regal garbs and fire nation insignia, Zuko looked normal. A decade of exhaustion seemed to vanish from his face and he looked...happy. Almost. Not quite. Something. He was something.

“I don’t think that’s a great idea,” Zuko answered honestly, his eyes landing on Feiwen and Sokka. The announcer began making various noises at him, mostly those of a moosehen. Zuko’s good brow rose.

“What’re you scared? Think you’ll get your ass kicked by a kid?”

“I’m twenty-six,” Feiwen huffed under his breath and Sokka laughed.

“It’s a bad idea,” Sokka warned,

“I wanna do it,” Feiwen argued,

“He’s a firebending master,” 

“And I’m a dumbass, I’m gonna do it,” Feiwen leaned over the railing of the ring, sucked in a breath, then yelled, “C’mon Zuko! It’s just a friendly competition, no harm no foul!” Sokka smacked his forehead when Zuko began walking over to them, having accepted the challenge. There wouldn’t be a ring left after he was done with it, wood and ice. _Tui and La protect this idiot,_

Zuko hopped the barrier and stood opposite to Feiwen. The announcer called more attendees over to watch the oncoming match and when finally a crowd larger than before was gathered to witness the battle, it began.

They bowed low, then stood tall, and as soon as the bell rang Feiwen launched a piece of the shattered pot at Zuko. Zuko met the pot with his left hand, breaking through it. With a smirk tugging at his lips, Zuko threw fire at Feiwen who slid to his knees to dodge it. The earthbender threw stones at Zuko, aiming for his hands, his feet, attempting to distract his bending, but fire and water bending were different. Waterbending came from the movement, the motion, while firebending came from the breath. Even if Feiwen incapacitated his hands, Zuko would still be able to breathe.

So He did. They exchanged blow after blow, dodging and weaving and counter attacking when Feiwen managed the upper hand. The bracelets forced Zuko’s hands together behind his back, the stones, now metamorphic after having been forced together by the pressure of bending, held Zuko’s feet in place. The Fire Lord inhaled deeply through his nose as the announcer began the count down. One. Two. Three.

He let the breath out through his mouth and with it flames. _Fire, dragon_ Feiwen ducked, rolled, and as he avoided the flames Zuko broke free of the stones. He raised his hand, the audience that had been cheering silenced.

“I forfeit,” without another word, Zuko left the ring. Sokka watched him go, watched him walk over to one of the food stands with Akemi and Miura trailing after him, the latter stuffing her face.

“What the?” Feiwen questioned, he looked to Sokka in confusion but Sokka could only shrug in response. 

“C’mon, I’m hungry and something smells real good,” Before running over to Sokka, he nabbed the bracelets, and fastened them around his wrists for later use. Sokka helped Feiwen with his coat, and waited while the man tied it before continuing on their adventure. They hit up stand after stand until Feiwen had no more room to carry the amount of food Sokka had gathered. So, they walked, talking and laughing and eating through the city. They turned down a dark alley, away from the festival and the lights, just the two of them and Sokka paused to lean against the wall of a building.

“You know, Feiwen, you’re much more enjoyable than your companions,” Feiwen laughed heartily at Sokka’s comment, 

“It’s hard to break old men of their habits, that’s why we have to be better. You and me,” the representative leaned on his side against the wall, looking to Sokka. “I think we can make a big difference,” his words were weights dragging Sokka down to drown in the ocean of reality. They were in the place to call shots, to make changes, to be better, but it was a lot. Sokka knew he couldn’t do it alone, wouldn’t be able to, which was why having Feiwen in his corner alleviated the weight, helped him carry it a little. Add Zuko, and the three of them could potentially make massive strides in the progress of the nations. Sokka liked the idea of that.

“I think we can too,” He turned, looking at Feiwen who stood just below eye level with him. The earthbender’s green eyes reflected the light of the moon, shining bright, as they bored through Sokka. He swallowed, his burn shifting under its bandage with the motion causing Sokka to grimace.

“Are you alright?” Feiwen’s face flooded with concern, “you seem...pained.” Sokka smiled hoping to lead him off the trail,

“I’m fine, just, a little out of it is all.”

“You’ve been out of it since you got here, Ambassador,” Feiwen teased, “are you sure you’re alright?”

“Positive, do you want a drink?” 

* * *

It was a mistake. Like dominos lined up in an intricate design, the mistakes fell one after another until Sokka was left with a design all his own. One drink led to another, and another, and another, and the next thing Sokka knew he was backing into his room with his lips locked on Feiwen’s. The earthbender kicked the door shut behind him, closing it with a loud slam. They separated, articles of clothing being discarded in their drunken stupor, then continued where they’d left off. Feiwen’s hand made his way to the nape of Sokka’s neck, stopping at the bandage.

“Sokka, what is this?” He stumbled back to gain a better look. Sokka’s neck was covered in bandages but otherwise bare and Feiwen’s eyes flickered from the tribesman’s neck to his wrist then to Sokka’s eyes. “That wasn’t there the other day,” he managed.

“It’s- it’s nothing, Feiwen,” Sokka stammered, his mind fogged over from the alcohol. He knew he was in deep shit, but he couldn’t think fast enough to dig his way out of it.

“You’re hurt, that’s why you’re so tired isn’t it?” _No. Not completely,_ Sokka thought

“No! I mean, I’m hurt, but it’s nothing serious. Just- leave it-leave it alone, okay? It’s nothing to be concerned with,” Even while intoxicated, Feiwen was fast.

The stone bracelets on his wrists broke away, floating in mid air. He shifted his footing, solidifying his stance, and motioned his right hand to Sokka’s feet. The bracelets shifted, changed, and clamped down in bands around Sokka’s feet, holding him in place. The earthbender rushed up to the tribesman and grabbed the bandage around his neck, loosening it until he was able to pull it free. Sokka seethed in pain and Feiwen gasped. A hand flew up to his mouth as he staggered back a few steps.

“That’s a _burn,_ ” Feiwen’s eyes were locked on the violently hued hand print. “A-a handprint- _Sokka!_ Why haven't you told anyone? Especially the Fire Lord! He would have whoever did this punished for sure!" Feiwen's speech came out slurred and slow but he sounded horrified all the same.

“I-I can’t, Feiwen, _I can’t_ ,” Sokka managed, his hand absently reaching for his throat, but he stopped when he was a few centimetres away, close enough to feel the heat of the burn. He dropped his hand. 

__

“Why not!?” Feiwen demanded, “Sokka, you’re- that looks bad.”

__

“If I tell, he’ll- they’ll- _I can’t_ ” He insisted, “I can’t.” the representatives eyes narrowed as he spoke,

__

“ _Wait._ Did Fire Lord Zuko do this to you?” Feiwen’s fists clenched at his side, and Sokka hung his head.

__

_“It was an accident,”_ he whispered. _Stars, music, fire, dragon_ Sokka’s face was wet with tears, “it was- it was an accident! It was an _accident_. You can’t- you can’t tell anyone, he’ll- they’ll-”

__

“I’m taking you to Meriwa. _Now._ ” the stones holding Sokka in place shifted and Feiwen grabbed his hand.

__

“No!” Sokka ripped himself from Feiwen’s grip. “ _No._ If the healers see this, _they’ll know._ They’ll know, Feiwen, and I can’t… I can’t put him at risk like that. I won’t.” Feiwen stared at Sokka, eyes wide with emotions Sokka couldn’t place over the ones running rampant in his own mind. It was. Loud. Everything intermingled, once crisp lines blurred until the edges were gone and one thing spilled into another and another after that.

__

“By the Spirits, you _love_ him.” It wasn’t a question, but a declaration. A fact. A fact Sokka had been swallowing so hard that not even Katara knew, and Katara knew everything. 

__

Sokka didn’t say anything, merely kept his eyes downcast. He could just make out Feiwen collecting his discarded clothes. “I liked you, Sokka. I really did, and this? _Fuck,_ it hurts.” Feiwen finished dressing and headed for the door but stopped short of it.

__

“You...fuck you, Sokka.” It wasn’t as harsh as Feiwen had probably intended, but it still stung. The representative left, slamming the door as he went, and Sokka collapsed onto his bed. He started crying. He cried until the inky blackness of sleep crept its way into his mind, darkening his vision, and transporting him into a world of stars, and music, and fire, and dragons.

__


	5. while yours remains

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> hello heathens,   
> those who are following may have noticed a few changes such as chapter titles! and that i combined ch. 4 and ch. 5 into one chapter as i had originally intended because i can.  
> Anyhow, thank you for the comments those of you left on part 2, unfortunately they were deleted in the process but i appreciate everyone of them :)   
> hopefully this chapter tickles y'all

The weight of the world was a little lighter as the sun shined through the curtains to the Fire Lord’s room on the fifth day of the Meeting of Nations. The fifth day, his favorite day, his day off. Well, everyone’s day off, but that made it better. There was an unspoken agreement among the council members in regards to the fifth day. No meetings, no private discussions of any sort, just rest and relaxation. Even Deming, the nosy little busy body that he was, respected the sanctity of this unwritten rule. Even so, when Zuko left his room that morning, he was surprised to find a near palpable tension radiating through the air.

He looked to his left, the source of the _Bad Vibes_ coming from Sokka’s room. Zuko wondered if he’d had lunch yet, Sokka had a tendency to get hangry when he forgot to eat, but knowing Representative Feiwen, the earthbender had probably beaten Zuko to the punch. Zuko wasn’t Feiwen’s biggest fan, but after their little sparring session during the festival he had come to respect the earthbender a little more. He was smart, strategic, and Zuko firmly believed if Feiwen wasn’t blinded by his desire to impress Sokka, he could have won. Zuko did not need that embarrassment on his belt, so he forfeited when he had the upper hand. It kept everyone on their toes and, if he was being honest with himself, (a rare occurrence as of recent) it made him look cooler.

It was his day off and Zuko wanted company, but with it being his day off that meant Akemi, Miura, and Zaynab also had the day off. It was tradition, one of them was almost always with him, but whenever he was not required to follow a set schedule, he gave the Kyoshi Warriors a break. With the lack of his usual company, Zuko decided to head for the door radiating ominous energy.

When Zuko was a few feet from the door, it swung open. Feiwen stormed out, slamming the door behind him without registering Zuko’s presence, and marched off down the hall. Zuko looked from the door to where Feiwen had gone and back. Against his better judgement, he decided to chance it.

He knocked only to receive silence, so he knocked again. Silence. He knocked a third time, nothing. He jiggled the doorknob, it was unlocked. The door creaked loudly when he pushed it open, alerting Sokka of his presence.

Sokka, who was lying on his bed with his back to the door rolled over and launched a pillow at Zuko while saying, “I told you to go away, Feiwen!” The pillow hit Zuko in the face.

When Sokka realized the person at the door was not, in fact, Feiwen, he swiftly sat up. Though his back was to the door, the firebender saw the swiping motion Sokka made at his face. Zuko’s blood ran cold as he realized Sokka was wiping away tears.

“Hey, Sokka? Are you alright?” Zuko asked, his voice containing a gentleness he hadn’t used in a long while. Sokka didn’t answer. Zuko closed the door, the creaking of the hinges deafening in the silence. He didn’t move further, just listened. Zuko could hear the ragged breaths coming from the tribesman and with it sniffling. Sokka was still crying. 

Acting without thought, Zuko crossed the room, stopping when he reached Sokka. The Fire Lord knelt down, positioning himself directly in front of his friend so he was able to look up at the man. As he did, Sokka covered his face with his hands, but when Zuko was situated, he reached out and took the ambassador’s hands in his. He pulled them from his face, exposing the tears trailing down his cheeks, the red of bloodshot eyes. Sokka closed his eyes, his face drawn into a grimace.

“Sokka,” Zuko said softly, “you don’t have to talk about it, but… please, let me be here for you,” He hadn’t intended to sound like he was begging, but _Agni_ knew he was. It was painful, watching Sokka cry. It was painful, watching him hurt. It was painful because all Zuko wanted to do was wipe away his tears and hold him tight and never let him go, but there were boundaries. Boundaries to being Fire Lord, boundaries to being friends, boundaries to being. He feared crossing them, overstepping the line, and losing what little relationship he still had with Sokka. 

Even so, Zuko let go of one of Sokka’s hands and, using his sleeve, wiped a few stray tears that had caught in the ambassador’s beard. He shook his sleeve down, freeing his hand, to smooth down the hairs he’d mussed. Sokka caught Zuko’s hand and pressed it to his cheek, leaning into the touch. Zuko forgot to breathe.

It wasn’t until he started seeing spots that he realized he’d been holding his breath. He was warm again, too warm. He could feel the temperature rising in his hand, the hand touching Sokka’s face. The same hand that had burned him a mere two nights ago. Zuko ripped his hands away from Sokka.

“I’m sorry, I-” 

“I could feel it,” Sokka whispered. _Agni, help me,_ Zuko thought. He stayed there, practically rooted in place, and looked at his hands. _Why can’t I control my bending?_

Six years ago, a seed had been planted in Zuko’s heart. He hadn’t realized it at the time, but the firebender had a tendency to be oblivious to many things. (Specifically matters of the heart.) Over time, the seed was tended to, nurtured, and with this care, it germinated. The seed grew roots that spread deeper, further, and embedded themselves permanently in the soil of Zuko’s heart. The seed grew.

It grew slowly over the course of many years and it was this seed that had ultimately ended Zuko’s relationship with his ex-partner, Mai. It was an amicable split, Mai had watched the seed grow within him as well, and she knew that eventually the time would come. She chose to wait it out. Not for any lack of self preservation, nor lack of self respect, but because she loved Zuko and she knew when the time came, when the seed had grown and finally taken root, that he would need someone. He would need her.

She held him when he cried, apologizing over and over, giving excuse after excuse and reason after reason but she needed none of it. She wiped his tears, kissed his face, and told him he needn’t apologize. She knew. She knew his heart wasn’t hers anymore, that she had been uprooted, and she said that she understood. It still hurt, no matter how prepared, no matter how much she’d already grieved her lost relationship, it still hurt. But, because of her help, her assistance with tending to the seed, it continued to grow.

Eventually, the seed in Zuko’s chest had formed a small bud. It’s petals were closed, tucked in tightly, not yet ready to bloom, but as he sat there in Sokka’s room, staring at his hands and wondering what was happening to him, the petals began to loosen. 

Zuko could feel Sokka’s gaze on him, could feel the warmth rising within him again from the scrutiny. He swallowed a lump rising in his throat. He wanted to speak, wanted to say something to cut the tension in the air, but he didn’t trust himself not to get tongue tied.

“Are you hungry?” Sokka’s voice cut through the inner ramblings of Zuko’s mind, the cogs in his head coming to a deadstop, _thank Agni,_

“Yeah, I actually came to see if you had eaten yet,” Zuko looked up from his hands.

“I have not. There’s this nice little cafe near the outer wall, wanna...wanna come with me?” The corners of Zuko’s mouth twitched upwards only to fall back down when his eyes landed on Sokka’s neck.

The bandage around it was loose, haphazardly prepared as if thrown on in a hurry, and Zuko had to clench his fists to keep himself from reaching out to adjust it. “Yeah, have you changed that?” He finally asked,

“No,” the casualness in Sokka’s voice died at the question and when Zuko looked to his eyes, they were faraway, like he was lost in thought. “Not since last night,”

“Let me help you,” Zuko insisted. Before Sokka could protest, he stood and headed for the bathroom attached to Sokka’s room. It was the only one of its kind, Sokka’s room, in this part of the structure, reserved specifically for the Southern Water Tribe representatives when they came to visit. Zuko was mildly jealous at the convenience, but he understood. He always gave the best rooms in the fire nation to his favourite representatives as well. 

He rummaged through the medicine cabinet, pulling out the gauze and salve he’d had Zaynab deliver Sokka’s room the morning after they had gone to the oasis, then headed over to the bed. He took a seat at the edge of the bed, feet planted firmly on the ground, and gestured for Sokka to come closer. Sokka, whose legs were criss-cross-apple-sauce in front of him, didn’t budge as Zuko laid out the supplies.

“I can’t reach you like that, uncross your legs.” With a dramatic flourish, Sokka turned his back to Zuko, uncrossed his legs, and threw himself down so his head landed in Zuko’s lap.

“How’s this?” Sokka blinked up at the Fire Lord.

“B-better,” Zuko stuttered. 

While Zuko was getting the bandages, Sokka had removed the old ones from his neck. It was the first time since the _incident_ that Zuko had been privy to his...work. There was no part of him that was proud of it. The damage was egregious, the skin was a deep red, puffed, and it was wet, seeping, from scattered blisters. Zuko considered himself to have a strong stomach, but he felt nauseous when he saw the results of what he’d done.

_“Sokka,”_ Zuko groaned, “you really should see a healer, by the time you’re able to see Katara this will- it’ll be scarred,”

“Burns don’t leave scars,” Sokka retorted, and Zuko blinked, staring at the wall and then back down to the idiot whose head was in his lap.

“Excuse me?” Sokka, whose eyes had been closed, opened them. Wide. Realization set in his face.

“Third-degree burns scar. Most...most average burns...this one shouldn’t.” He tripped over his words seemingly trying to save himself from what he’d just said. “You know what? I’m not a medical professional, I’ll shut up.” 

“That’s the first intelligent thing you’ve said today,” Zuko remarked. He went back to examining Sokka’s burn, and was certain the tribesman hadn’t spent any time examining the damage done. The burn wasn’t third degree, but it was pretty close, easily second and Zuko worried about infection, though he tried to suppress the concern.

_“forgive me,”_ his words dripping with sarcasm, “it may not leave behind scar tissue, but there’s a strong likelihood the skin will be discoloured.” 

“Then I suppose you’ve left your mark on me,” 

“you don’t find that off-putting?” Zuko asked, he began the process of applying the salve as gently as he could, acutely aware of Sokka’s muscles tensing beneath his touch.

“Me? No. Future lovers? They might be a tad jealous,” Sokka commented,

“Jealous? How so?” he applied a bit of pressure to rub the salve in, Sokka’s hands gripped the sheets. 

Between clenched teeth he uttered, “Their marks will always fade while yours remains,” Zuko applied a little too much pressure at Sokka’s words. Subconsciously done or not couldn’t be determined. “Ow, fuck, careful,” 

“

Sorry,” Zuko pulled his hand away just as he began overheating, again. “give me a second, I don’t- I don’t know what’s going on with me,” he stammered.

“We gotta get you outside, the crisp air of negative degrees will cool you right off,” Zuko wrinkled his nose, the idea of walking to the outer wall in the cold becoming less and less appealing the more he thought of it. His stomach chose that moment to publicly disagree,

“I hate the cold,” with his hands now a tolerable temperature, he carefully applied the gauze to Sokka’s neck, and over top it the wrap they’d used to hold it in place. When all was said and done, Sokka sat back up, rotated his neck to loosen the bandage, and grinned.

“C’mon ya wuss, let’s get lunch before one of us becomes feral.” 

* * *

Zuko’s newfound tendency to overheat proved useful on their walk to the cafe. He managed to keep himself warm even with the arctic winds blowing at his face. Unfortunately, this meant his mind was not plagued with thoughts of hating the cold and instead allowed to wander to the conversation he’d had with Sokka. _Their marks will always fade while yours remains._ The phrase played on repeat in his mind. 

There was a lot to unpack with the way the statement made him feel, but Zuko couldn’t find an adequate place to begin. It was like tumbling blocks. He would find a piece, a thought that made sense to start with, and would carefully extract it from the tower and place it on top. Then, the part of his brain he firmly believed was controlled by a goblin, would flip the table the tower was on and send the blocks flying everywhere, scattered, the thought that made sense now lost in a sea of new ones. It repeated, over and over, until he gave up. Thankfully, he gave up when they arrived at the cafe.

The inside of the cafe smelled of cinnamon and nutmeg and it felt significantly warmer than the outside. Not only did it feel warmer, it looked warmer. The interior was covered in beiges, oranges, and maroons. It almost reminded Zuko of home, almost. 

They sat near the windows at a small table for two, leaving no invitation for anyone, including civilians, to sit with them. As Zuko combed through the menu, his fingers tapping on the table, Sokka stood abruptly, his chair tipping over as he did.

“Sokka?” Zuko questioned,

was Aang. Flying in overhead on Appa.

“Sokka slow down! You won’t catch him!” Zuko yelled after him, but the tribesman kept going. Between running and the cold dry air, Zuko was running out of breath. He titled his head back to let out an aggravated yell and with it he accidentally shot fire into the sky. He hunched over, gasping for air but the cold prevented him from getting any relief.

“Woah!” Sokka called. Zuko looked up to find Sokka running at him at full speed and behind Sokka was Appa flying lower than before. “Incoming!” but Sokka’s warning was too late. The ambassador collided with the Fire Lord and the two fell to the ground in a tangle of limbs and furs. They went about untangling themselves, but just when Sokka was about to stand up he was knocked to the ground from the force of Appa’s landing shaking everything around them. 

“Hey!” Aang’s voice could be heard, “what’re you guys doing?” 

Zuko was supine, staring up at Sokka whose face was close enough he could feel the tribesman’s hot breath. Sokka’s cheeks were flushed, Zuko assumed due to the cold, but as he looked into Sokka’s eyes he noticed a flash of...something. He realized their faces were getting closer and,

“Your breath reeks,” Zuko remarked.

“You never gave me the chance to brush my teeth,” 

“You were _crying._ ” 

“No you,” Zuko threw Sokka off of him.

“That doesn’t even make sense you idi-”

“Guys?” Sokka and Zuko turned to Aang who stood in front of them. “You’re bickering like an old married couple again,” The two turned away from one another, both with arms crossed over their chest, and sat in silence. The silence was quickly broken by a loud gurgling sound from Sokka’s stomach.

“You don’t happen to be hungry, do you Aang?” Zuko asked, Aang shrugged.

“I could eat,” 

“Great! Follow me,” Sokka said as he jumped to his feet. He looped his arm through Aang’s and dragged him into the cafe with Zuko trailing behind them. 

They grabbed a table for four with Aang seated on one side and Zuko and Sokka on the other. Sokka put his feet up on the seat next to Aang to prevent anyone from sitting in it on the off chance they decided they wanted to intrude on the Avatar’s lunch.

“How’s Appa? I was told you wouldn’t be here because he’s sick,” Zuko asked. Aang looked to his left, then his right (which was a wall), then to Zuko and Sokka. He waved them closer and the two sat up and leaned in.

_“I lied.”_ Aang admitted. Sokka reeled back in shock.

“You. Did. Not.” He exclaimed. Zuko, in disbelief, shook his head in time with Sokka’s words.

_“I did._ I had...business to attend to,” the eighteen year old admitted, his cheeks flushed pink.

“What kind of business?” Zuko asked, a curious brow raised. He was leaning in closer than before, his face resting in his hands.

“Do you really want to know?” 

_“Yes!”_ the pair said in unison causing Aang to shy back. He stuffed a hand in his pocket and dug around in it for a few moments before pulling out a gold ribbon with a flat pale blue stone on it. The stone was carved with swirls that were painted gold to represent wind along with waves flowing in the same same direction.

“That’s beautiful, Aang. Who’s it for?” Sokka asked. Zuko couldn’t help himself, he couldn’t contain it, he slapped Sokka upside the head. “Ow! What the hell?” 

“It’s for _Katara!”_ Zuko answered, Sokka blinked. He looked from Zuko to Aang then back to Zuko then back to Aang.

“No, seriously, who’s it for?” he questioned, _Agni, give me strength._

“Zuko’s right, Sokka. I...I’m going to ask Katara to marry me.” Aang said slow and low as if to keep someone from overhearing. His grey eyes were set on Sokka, searching for something in the tribesman’s face. Answers, Aang was searching for answers. (how did you not realize for five years? Toph is physically blind and clocked us so fast yet you couldn't see what’s been in front of you this whole time? We literally hold hands, Sokka.)

“You- you aren’t even dating! You can’t just ask her to marry you when you aren’t dating!” Sokka nearly yelled,

“We’ve been dating for almost five years.” Aang deadpanned. The patience was visibly draining from Aang and Zuko scooted closer to the wall for safety purposes.

The Avatar, who’s hair was surprisingly long, 

(due to spending days searching for the perfect stone for Katara, carving it, shopping the markets for the perfect ribbon to attach to it, and asking Toph to metal bend a clasp and ring to hook the stone onto then followed by flying immediately to the North Pole to catch the last few days of the Meeting of Nations.)

ran a hand over the dark locks growing from his scalp. He tugged lightly at them, irritated by their existence, and irritated that everyone else had known without so much as a word but Sokka had managed to overlook what was right in front of him. (not unlike the man sitting directly to Sokka’s right.) 

“I- okay, so I may have overlooked it. A bit. You two don’t exactly go off on random public displays of affection, how was I supposed to know if you never said anything?” Zuko couldn’t really blame Sokka for being oblivious to Aang and Katara’s relationship. He had been for a long while as well until he’d walked into Aang’s quarters looking for Momo, who had stolen Zuko’s head piece, to find them cuddled closely looking over a set of waterbending scrolls. Blame him or not, it was still hard to believe he had known Katara her whole life, and Aang for a decent portion of his, and had not seen it.

“For someone so smart, you can be really dense.” Aang commented, Zuko snickered, and Sokka slammed his fist on the table. The other patrons in the cafe looked over to them at the sound of Sokka’s assault on the table.

“I’ve got nothing, I just wanted to hit the table.” 

“You’re going to get us kicked out,” Zuko remarked, which received a laugh from Sokka.

“You’re the Fire Lord, he’s the Avatar, I’m water tribe,” he gestured to each of them as he spoke, “there’s little to no chance of us getting kicked out… of anywhere.”

Zuko disagreed. Since they had set foot inside the cafe, breaths were held. He felt the exhale when he’d initially left, chasing after Sokka to catch Aang. Relieved sighs. Then, when the three entered together, they caught again. Suspicious glances, wary stares, hushed whispers. He felt like he was in the council room, the other members casting disdainful looks his way, he felt exposed.

“I have to disagree,” Aang commented, “remember when old man Sie opened his store in Omashu? He was so tired of us destroying the cabbage stand that he bought out little shops all over the nations that he could work out of as he traveled. I barely got through the door and he chased me out with a broom,” the tale caused Zuko to forget his anxieties long enough to smile.

“We? You destroyed the cabbage stands, Aang. I’m surprised he didn’t turn you over to Fire Lord Ozai during the war.” A sideways glance at Zuko, but Zuko kept his posture tight like the feeling in his chest. It was getting hard to breathe.

“Zuko?” Zuko looked to Aang, 

“Yes?”

“You’re smoking.” He was, in fact, smoking. He hadn’t realized his body temperature had risen again, he hadn’t noticed Sokka scooting away from him, he hadn’t noticed-

“Excuse me, sir, this is a no-bending establishment. I’m going to have to ask you to leave,” a waiter said as he approached their table. Wordlessly, Zuko stood.

“Hey, he’s sorry man, my friend here has been struggling with his bending all day,” Sokka said, trying to smooth over the situation, the waiter remained firm on his stance.

“Then he should leave faster. Royalty or not, I won’t take the hit to my wallet if the Fire Lord decides he can’t control his element.” Sokka opened his mouth to protest, and Zuko noticed a white knuckled fist clenching at the tribesman’s side.

“Don’t worry about it, Sokka, I’ll catch up with you at the feast tonight.” He left, as fast as his feet would carry him without breaking into a full blown run. He was finally able to recognize the temperature difference when the outside air hit his face and began to regulate. The sound of crunching snow filled his ears as he did and he turned to catch Sokka following after him,

“Zuko, wait, about the feast. There’s...there’s something you should know.”

* * *

Sokka was lying in his bed, good arm folded under his head, watching. Zuko sat on the floor to the side of the bed, his knees pulled to his chest.

“You think Feiwen’s told someone already?” Aang asked for what seemed to be the millionth time.

“I wouldn’t be surprised if he has. He was...he was pretty broken up about it.” Zuko listened to the conversation pass between his two friends, trying to comprehend the severity of the situation in which he found himself, but he couldn’t focus on it. Instead, his mind lingered on something else Sokka had said.

_We, well we kissed. More like, well, there was tongue and what not. Anyway, we drunkenly stumbled into my room and there was kissing, and groping, and clothes flying around and he saw the bandage._

A single petal began to peel away, fold over its edges, and reveal another beneath it still clinging to the core.

“I mean, it was an accident. It makes sense to me, I don’t see how anyone could mistake it for anything else if we tell them the truth,” Aang offered a solution, but they’d already found flaws in it.

“They’ll ask about what we were doing that night,” Zuko finally spoke, his voice soft. “They’ll…”

“They’ll find out I took Zuko to the Spirit Oasis.” Sokka explained, “Arnook said no, but…” Sokka trailed off. Aang stopped pacing and slid to the floor next to Zuko.

_He ripped it from my neck and gasped. I think he was crying, I don’t really remember. I- I might have been crying? It hurt like a bitch._

“It was an accident.” The statement was unwavering. It sounded less like a reassurance and more like a promise to Zuko, and it was Sokka who spoke the promise. “I know you wouldn’t hurt me, not intentionally, and especially not without reason. You had reason,” Zuko felt heavy. The weight that had felt lighter just that morning gained. It gained, and gained, and it anchored him in place. _I might have been crying._

“You’re lying.” it wasn’t until the words were out of his mouth that he realized he said them. 

“What?” Sokka asked, confusion present in his voice.

“I saw him this morning, Feiwen, I saw him leaving your room. You were crying this morning, Sokka. You’re not telling us everything,” Zuko had stood to face the ambassador who was now sitting up. “You threw a pillow at me and said ‘I told you to go away, Feiwen,’. I didn’t press because it wasn’t my place but- but this is my place. This has to do with me and- and”

“and what, Zuko?” Sokka asked, rising to his feet. Aang sat quietly on the floor, observing his friends, listening to their back and forth (or listening to the breaths between each word, the implication with each pause to gather thoughts, and watching the glances that went unnoticed by the other pass to and fro.)

“I,” Zuko began pacing, by the spirits he felt warm. _“I don’t want to start another war._ Maybe I’m just- maybe I don’t give the council members enough credit, but I know them. They- _spirits,_ they hate me. They hate me with everything in them, and Feiwen was one of the few who was merely indifferent instead of straight spiteful and now he hates me too. He hates me because he likes you and you’re protecting me, Sokka. _Why are you protecting me?”_ Sokka opened his mouth to speak, but Zuko continued on,

“I’ve told you, I’ve told you to see a healer and you were adamant that they wouldn’t understand an accident. And yet, look at me. I’m fucking sweating. _I am drenched._ I cannot control my bending and had you been seen before this started maybe they would have bought that- that it was an accident and healed you and Arnook would have pulled me aside to privately discuss with fanciful words and pretty little idioms how much he detests me, the piece of gold that sits on my head, and the nation I lead.

“But you said no. You said no and now I’m a potential hazard to everyone because something is wrong and I keep overheating. _You said no./ _You said no and you’re protecting me but you failed, Sokka, you failed because you got distracted by a set of green eyes and now-”__

____

he paused to untie his robes, tossing them to the side so he could pace back and forth in only his trousers, letting the cool air dry his skin. There were tears in his eyes, frustrated, angry, scared. He felt like a child again trying to hide from his father, from his wrath. Except now he wasn’t trying to hide from the wrath of merely one world leader, but all of them and by the spirits he was terrified.

__

“I’m sorry, I’m frightened. Everyone’s waiting for me to fuck up, and I did. I fucked up.” _It was an accident,_

__

Zuko’s words hung in the air. The silence that fell over them resonated louder than Zuko thought possible, he continued to pace. Running his hands through his hair that was now loose from its binder, falling around his face, and sticking to it from the sweat, he paced.

__

Zuko pivoted, turning to walk back towards the bed, but he stopped when he found Sokka standing in front of him. He glared up into Sokka’s eyes, his stupid blue eyes with markings like waves in them, his stupid blue eyes that reminded Zuko of the ocean, his stupid blue eyes that, if Zuko let himself, he could drown in. (another petal began to curl,) Sokka didn’t glare back.

__

In fact, his gaze held no malice, no anger, nothing negative. He was apologetic, sympathetic. Zuko wanted to beg him for forgiveness, to apologize further for his harsh words, his showing of emotion, his lapse of judgement, but instead he froze. Sokka had pulled him into a hug, his arms wrapped tightly around Zuko’s shoulders, forcing the Fire Lord against him.

__

Zuko stopped sweating. His temperature leveled out. Hesitantly, oh so hesitantly, he wrapped his arms around Sokka. He buried his face in his friend’s shoulder, and the tears that had been escaping from him at random during his episode fell at a constant pace. He cried, violently shaking in Sokka’s arms. He faintly heard the shift of fabric as he did and then felt another pair of arms wrapping around him. Aang.

__

Zuko basked in the warmth of his friends’ embraces for a long while before shifting, signifying he wanted to be released from the confines of their arms. They obliged him, and when he stepped back and wiped his eyes he suddenly realized just how tall Aang was.

__

“You weren’t supposed to grow up,” Zuko said, looking Aang over. Sokka chose that moment to rest his arm on Zuko’s shoulder.

__

“Maybe you shoulda thought of that before you stopped growing,” he teased,

__

“I literally cannot control my height.” Zuko objected,

__

“mmm, sounds like a you problem.” A knock was heard at the door. The trio exchanged glances, silently corroborating their stories, not that they had stories that needed support, but old habits die hard. It was Aang that decided to open the door.

__

“Ambassador So- oh, Avatar Aang, what a surprise.” Zuko turned his attention to the door, recognizing Akemi’s voice. He approached them, tapping Aang’s shoulder indicating for him to let him through.

__

“Fire Lord Zuko! There you are, I-” she looked from him to Aang and then Sokka, “can I speak with you privately? It’s...urgent.” 

__

“Akemi, it’s my day off, are you sure this can’t wait?” He asked.

__

“‘fraid not sir,” with a dejected sigh, Zuko waved Akemi on, gesturing for her to head for his room.

__

“I’ll see you two at the feast,” he called back to them as he followed after the Kyoshi Warrior.

__

* * *

__

Shit kept piling on. For a day that was supposed to be rest and relaxation, Zuko hadn’t managed to do much of either. He had planned to get lunch with a friend, instead he found himself neck deep in the inner strugglings of his psyche, a sudden inability to control the heat he radiated, a mental breakdown, and on top of all that one of the Kyoshi Warriors was missing.

__

“She had last night off, is there any chance she went to visit a friend? Maybe forgot to check in?” Zuko asked. Miura and Akemi were standing in front of him, their faces bare, and dressed in street clothes. It wasn’t the first time he’d seen the girls without their attire, but it still jarred him how they managed to transform themselves from soft and delicate looking things to beings that struck fear in his heart.

__

“No sir, Zaynab’s not like that. She’s always the first to check in and the last to check out, there’s no way she would abandon her post.” Miura answered. Zuko sighed, he was pacing again.

__

“Well, I mean, we’re in her home lands. If she did abandon her post, at least she’s home, but…” He paused his pacing to look from Akemi to Miura and back. “You’re positive she wouldn’t skip out?” 

__

“Without a shadow of a doubt,” Miura confirmed. Akemi shifted at her side,

__

“What?” Zuko asked, his gaze landing on the girl.

__

“It’s just, she was… she’s seeing someone. A boy up here, and I know she went to see him last night. Maybe something happened…” Zuko’s jaw clenched.

__

“Right,” he let out a breath, “keep this quiet for now, I want you two looking for her. If you find her, and she’s quit, fine. We’ll let it be, no repercussions, but if you find anything amiss, report it back to me and I’ll- I’ll talk to Arnook about forming a search and rescue.” He dismissed them, nothing left to say. 

__

His mind raced, the cogs spinning at top speed. He worried for Zaynab’s safety, she was a capable warrior, but even the most resourceful of people could fall into a trap if not properly prepared. Everything in him hoped she had run off, decided she hated him so much she couldn’t bear working with him any longer. Something nagged at him though, something telling him that this wasn’t the case, something that reminded him of every time Zaynab had proven herself loyal to him and the Fire Nation. 

__

He needed help.

__


	6. abandon your tethers

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> happy new year :) sorry this chapter is a little...  
>  _eh_

With the sudden and unexpected cancellation of the next day’s meetings, much to everyone’s dismay (no one, absolutely _no one_ was dismayed) Sokka found himself standing in the center of a sparring arena. The arena was generally used for waterbending training, being made entirely of ice with four fountains lining the perimeter. It was slick, and dangerous for sword fighting, but where Sokka and Zuko lacked self preservation, they made up for it with innovation. Having found the right gear to ensure their shoes would grip the ice, the two men faced one another and bowed.

“Is this really a good idea?” Aang called from above them. He was sitting on an archway of ice fiddling with Katara’s betrothal necklace as he watched his two friends make arguably poor life choices.

“Good idea shmood idea, all that matters is that it’s a _fun_ idea,” Sokka called up to the airbender as he stood up straight. He shot a wicked grin in Zuko’s direction and drew his sword. 

It wasn’t Space Sword. That he left in the safety of his room and used his other sword, the one he’d gotten shortly after the loss of Space Sword. It was a straight sword (the straightest thing about Sokka being his preference of blades) made of the finest steel acquired from the Fire Nation mines, the hilt was the star of the show though, with intricate carvings like waves coated with white gold. The smith who’d forged the sword had done an exceptional job at ensuring the carvings would not affect the blademaster’s ability to hold the weapon, having coated the hilt to fill the cracks without ruining the gleam of the precious metal. The day of Zuko’s coronation, he had gifted it to Sokka as a thank you for his efforts in stopping the war and as an apology for his broken leg and lost sword.

Zuko drew his dual blades, a grin to mirror Sokka’s plastered on his face, “c’mon Aang, lighten up a little.”

The Avatar sighed, “Begin,” 

Sokka was fast. He knew this terrain better than anything else and he thrived here, on the ice, the element he’d grown surrounded by. He raised his blade to slash downwards at Zuko, but the Fire Lord was no civilian when it came to a sword fight. He crossed his blades to meet the blow, bringing them closer to his torso as Sokka’s weight pressed in on him. With the stored power in his muscles, Zuko’s left foot slid back, angling ever-so-slightly, and he pushed forward with his arms. The crossed blades forced the straight sword back and away, uncrossing as they did, and Zuko rotated his left shoulder bringing his left arm up and parallel to his right to follow through with a slash at Sokka.

Sokka met Zuko’s blades from below, forcing Zuko to retract his attack or risk losing both of his swords to Sokka’s counter. The Fire Lord took a few steps back and the two began circling each other, watching one another’s movements. It was Sokka who launched the first blow of the secondary assault. He saw Zuko’s foot slip the tiniest bit and used it to his advantage. It was a bluff. Zuko met Sokka’s attack perfectly, expectantly, and parried it flawlessly. They met blow after blow, parrying and countering and attacking again until they were back to circling each other.

Sokka knew not to trust Zuko’s fake out again, forcing their dance to last longer this time as Sokka waited for the firebender to crack. He did. Sokka was fast on his feet, but Zuko was faster. He rushed Sokka, forcing him to dodge the attack as he swiped inward with each blade, crossing them at the end of the move. Sokka raised his sword, Zuko met it with his left and used his right to slash under. Sokka was forced to dodge again, taking a step back. Zuko continued the assault, backing Sokka up, forcing him on the defense until the tribesman had gone too far.

The clatter of a sword hitting the ice, the splashing of a man hitting the water. Sokka had backed so far up he’d lost his balance and fallen straight back into one of the fountains. The water was freezing, his entire body seized up from the glacial temperatures, and he inwardly cursed himself for getting too distracted by Zuko to remember his surroundings. If Piandao heard about this… _oh spirits, this is embarrassing._

When Sokka surfaced, using his elbows to prop himself up, he felt pressure against his neck. He blinked water from his eyes to find one of Zuko’s dao at his throat. The Fire Lord forced Sokka’s head up, using the blunt side of his blade to raise his chin. Their eyes met, and Sokka couldn’t stop the smile that crept onto his face as he stared into Zuko’s golden gaze. It felt warm, like he was basking in the sun.

“I win.” Zuko said triumphantly.

“Yippee! Can we get lunch now?” Aang called down from above them. 

Zuko offered Sokka his hand, and like the petty bitch they all knew Sokka to be, he yanked Zuko into the fountain with him. Zuko screamed. His scream was loud enough that he summoned Miura and Akemi into the room, fans at the ready, only for them to relax their posture when they saw the pair in the fountain. Sokka sluggishly pulled himself up, the weight of his clothes almost too much for him as he lifted his leg over the side of the fountain and out. He helped Zuko up.

“Come on, let’s get changed.” Sokka said as he noticed the Fire Lord’s chattering teeth. “Aang, we’ll catch up with you later.” The Avatar let out an exasperated groan from above them.

* * *

The pair were in Sokka’s suite, sopping wet clothes discarded in a pile on the ground, as Sokka turned the washroom into a sauna from the heat of the water pouring from the shower. He had only a towel around his waist when he beckoned Zuko, who was still violently shaking, into the room with him. Sokka was unsure whether Zuko’s body was pink from being cold or perhaps dehydrated from their sparring session, but he didn’t ask, not wanting to embarrass the Fire Lord (who kept a tight grip on the towel around his own waist, seeming incredibly shy all of the sudden for someone who had seen and been seen by Sokka like this on more than one occasion).

“Better?” Sokka asked, closing the door after Zuko was seated on the edge of the vanity counter. Zuko shook his head, still shaking. “Really? You couldn’t stop overheating yesterday and now you can’t warm up?” Zuko shrugged and between the chatter of his teeth said, 

“What can I say? The cold climate messes with me,”

Sokka knew this to be true, something he’d witnessed time and again. The longer a firebender spent in a cold climate the less and less they were able to maintain their heat, their fire, but he had never heard of a firebender overheating the way Zuko had the day before. An idea came to life in his mind suddenly as he thought back. A particularly devilish idea. 

Sokka hopped onto the vanity next to Zuko, scooching close to the Fire Lord until their shoulders were touching. “What are you doing?” Zuko asked.

“Body heat, skin to skin. If we share body heat, you’ll warm up faster. I can put my arm around you if you want,” it was like night and day. One moment Zuko’s body temperature was slightly below normal and the next he was a blazing inferno. _Hot._

“N-no, that’s alright, I’m better now,” Sokka gave a tight-lipped smile, suppressing the snicker rising in him.

“Right,” he said when he was finally able to maintain a neutral expression. “Well, I’m going to shower, you can stay if you want, I’m not shy, but-” Sokka didn’t manage to finish his statement before Zuko was out the door.

* * *

Sokka spent that night tossing and turning, images of Zuko plaguing his mind. More specifically, the way the Fire Lord had looked when he had taken Sokka’s hand in his and wiped the tears from his face. The way he’d smiled in triumph after he’d won during their spar. The look of betrayal when Sokka had pulled him into the fountain. The way Zuko had warmed at his touch, his words.

He couldn’t pinpoint when they had come to this, devolving from friends into strangers yet somehow picking up like nothing had changed at all. It was a talent to say the least, their ability to mold themselves around one another, mirroring their intentions and energy and Sokka let himself hope. 

As he tossed, and turned, and let his mind wander, he let himself hope for moments at a time that maybe, _just maybe,_ Zuko reciprocated Sokka’s feelings. The thoughts would get out of hand as he let himself wander into the danger zone of fantasizing of the day he would maybe, _just maybe,_ tell Zuko how he felt. He let himself hope that should this day come, Zuko would confess in turn, but it was improbable. Sokka was well aware of the ramifications behind them forming any sort of relationship outside of the box defined as Friends. He cared a bit about the consequences that would follow were they to forge something from the fires of the heart and cast it into a tangible creation thus drawing attention to themselves. With attention drawn, if someone harboured ill will towards either… _well._ Gender was not the issue. Fire Nation was the issue.

It was while Sokka was mulling over these concerns in the limbo of semi-consciousness that he heard shuffling outside his door, like something had been shoved under it. He rolled, just in time to see retreating shadows and a black splotch on the floor. It was maybe two in the morning, far too late for anyone to be out and too early for anyone to be awake aside from the assigned guards.

Groggily, Sokka sat up. He reached for the bedside table, his hands feeling around for the spark rocks and candle. Once it was lit, Sokka grabbed the holder, candle secured inside, and headed for his door. The dark shape on the floor was a folded bit of parchment. Flipping it open, his eyes landed on the words, 

_Abandon your tethers,_

_the Fire you seek,_

_Fly too close to the Sun,_

_burned shall you be,_

_A menace to all, friend to None,_

_Stay away from the Flames,_

_their time will come,_

Sokka’s eyes scanned the page over and over, flipping the parchment to look at the backside, then returning to the side with the lettering. He analyzed each brush stroke, the choice of character used for each word, and the set up. At some point, he sat on the floor, back against the door, pouring over the note. Sokka’s mind became a blank sheet of parchment as he mentally noted everything he saw, everything he felt, and everything he believed to be with the use of language. _Fire, Sun, Flames_ He looked up from the note, eyes unfocused with a single word, a single name, escaping him in a gasp, _“Zuko”_

Sokka scrambled to his feet, running from his room with the note in hand, all the way to Aang’s. He paused briefly in front of Zuko’s, Miura was stationed on the outside, reading a book. She didn’t bother a glance in his direction when he paused, but Sokka did catch her posture shifting, readying just in case. He continued on.

Aang opened the door bleary eyed with his hair sticking up in all directions. “Sokka? Do you even know what time it is?” Sokka pushed past Aang into the room.

“Time for you to wake up, Avatar. We’ve got a problem.” he waved the note in Aang’s face and the airbender snatched it from his hands. Aang yawned as he read it, hand covering his mouth as he did so, then stopped. Hand still raised, eyes flashing furiously over the page as he reread the claim.. “Someone slid it under my door. I think...I think it’s about Zuko. Maybe a prank, or someone trying to isolate him, I don’t have a clear idea,”

Sokka did have an idea. He had three, all decorated in gold and green, but Sokka was no fool. He knew the consequences if he started throwing accusations out at world leaders willy nilly, the relationships between the nations would not only be strained, but could potentially be broken. He was playing a dangerous game, thinking of Deming, Bojing, and Feiwen in such a negative way, but he had watched how the former two interacted with Zuko. He had seen their eyerolls, huffed breaths, crossed arms. He had heard hushed words exchanged in disagreement and ridicule and he was certain that if anyone in the North Pole wanted to harm Zuko, they were in on it.

“This is bad, Sokka.” Aang finally said,

“I know,”

“No. You don’t” The Avatar looked to his friend, concern was present in the crease of his brow and down-turned corners of his mouth. “Zaynab’s missing. Zuko stopped me after the feast, asking me to help him find her. If she’s missing, and you’ve been given this-” Aang paused, the gears in his head turning.

“Zuko’s in danger.” Sokka settled on. The words tasted poorly in his mouth. His stomach churned with anxiety, someone wanted to hurt Zuko. Someone always wanted to hurt Zuko, but this someone was ballsy for acting during the Meeting of Nations.

“We should warn him,” Aang’s words were met with head shaking from Sokka.

“He’s got a lot on his plate right now, we should… _you’re right,_ but maybe we should handle this. Under the table. The less stress he’s under, the better.” Aang started chewing on the inside of his cheek, a habit he had developed from Sokka which signified he was deep in thought.

“We’ll… we’ll investigate. If we find something substantial, and can take care of this threat quietly, then we will. However, if something else goes amiss, I’ll tell Zuko myself. He should know when he has a target on his back.”

“He always has a target on his back, Aang.” Sokka argued, which was met with a shrug.

“A life threatening target.” Aang clarified,

“Yeah, alright,” Sokka agreed, he ran a hand through his loose locks of hair.

He wanted to start the search immediately, to ensure Zuko’s safety, but he knew better. The later he was up, the more suspicious his actions became, and someone might know he was on to them, or at the very least, seeking them (whoever ‘them’ was) out.

“After tomorrow’s meeting, we’ll have to borrow Zuko and see if we can’t retrace Zaynab’s steps. Maybe we’ll find something…” Sokka had little hope they would actually find Zaynab, but with the three of them looking together it would be impossible for them to miss something if there was a something to be found.

Sokka, Aang, and Akemi stood in front of Zaynab’s childhood home, compared to the rest of the city, it was merely a hole in the wall. They had been searching for hours for the last person to see her and the last place she’d been seen. The boy she had gone to visit the other night wasn’t at all what Sokka expected him to be. He was maybe ten years old, a lanky, sickly thing, with sunken eyes and hollow cheeks and a wide, wide smile by the name of Atian. 

“No one’s home,” he had said to them when he saw them knocking on the door from across the street. Atian had invited them inside his house, mostly on account of wanting to meet the Avatar. So, Aang sat at the table in the corner across from Atian giving him full ability to watch Akemi and Sokka as he talked with the kid.

“How long have you known Zaynab for?” Aang asked. It was a question driven by the need to find Zaynab and his own personal curiosity. The other two stood nearby, quietly discussing their next course of action, while being cryptic enough as to not let the kid in on the reason why they were visiting.

“Since I was very small, Zaybee would take care of me when my ma and dad were out fishing. More so after ma didn’t come back…” Atian was looking down, fiddling with a wooden carving in his hands. 

Sokka thought back to the day his own mother didn’t come back and wondered, was it worse for her to have stayed in their home and know exactly what had happened? Or for her to go one morning after receiving a kiss on the cheek and a farewell only for her never to return and to never fully comprehend what happened? He settled for the latter. Though his home had been stained, at least he had known.

“This is getting harder,” Sokka whispered to Akemi. “We were going to bring Arnook into the loop, but after this morning’s announcement it looks like it’s just us.” 

“It seems too...convenient.” She acknowledged,

“Convenient how?” 

“The morning after Zaynab goes missing, Chief Arnook falls ill- too ill to leave bed, then you get that note and now the meetings are postponed. More time has to be spent in the North Pole. I’m not saying this is the perfect storm, but… it gives whoever’s leaving threats more time to work.” Sokka’s jaw tensed. Akemi was right, she was right and he didn’t like it one bit.

Sokka hadn’t been able to sleep the rest of the night after he’d spoken to Aang, his tossing and turning amplified not by the feelings of adoration he held for Zuko, but by the fear of losing him, the fear of someone taking the Fire Lord away. 

He got ready for the meetings bright and early. He was finally able to shave the sides of his hair and the growing beard from his face thanks to a care package Katara had sent with Aang for him. The edible items of the package were now categorized as inedible and some of them were leaking fluids that shouldn’t have had fluids to begin with. 

It had taken him over an hour of his afternoon the day prior to clean the package up and salvage the nonperishable items even with Aang’s help, but inhaling the putrid fumes of rotten food was all worth it when he found the razors.

When he’d finished cleaning up, Sokka grabbed something small from the kitchen and waited in the councilroom for the rest of the members to arrive, but they never did. It wasn’t until Aang found him, long after the meeting should have started, half asleep at the table, that he learned of Arnook’s sudden ailment and the reason why the meetings had been cancelled the day prior. 

_“The guards had stopped by your room, but said you weren’t there. Everyone’s been frantically looking for you,”_ Aang had told him.

 _“No one thought to look here for me?”_ Sokka snorted with laughter, _“do they really think so poorly of me?”_

Aang shrugged, _“Zuko thought to look here,”_

“A man stopped us on the way home,” Atian’s explanation drew Sokka from his mind. “He wasn’t from around here,” Aang looked up at his companions briefly before returning his attention to the kid.

“Did he wear green or red?” Aang asked,

“No,” Atian started, “he wore blue, but he was very pale. Not sick pale, not like me, but naturally pale.” 

“Do you remember anything else about him?” Sokka asked, his mind flashing through the faces of the council members and their guards. There were only a handful of people in the North Pole that he could think of who matched Atian’s description- even with it being so small.

Atian turned to look at Sokka and shook his head, “no, Zaybee told me to go inside, that she would see me in the morning.” The boy’s pale blue eyes began to redden, tears forming in them. “Something bad happened, didn’t it? She’s never forgotten me, ever.”

Sokka and Aang exchanged pained expressions. He weighed their options, keep the boy out of the loop and pray they could bring Zaynab back to him, or tell him the truth. It was Akemi who made the decision. The warrior knelt down in front of him and took his hands in hers,

“We’re looking for Zaynab, she didn’t return to us that night, Atian. You’re our biggest lead to finding her and everything you told us? It is so important and will be so helpful for us as we try to bring her back to you,” Akemi smiled at him and rubbed circles on the back of Atian’s hands as she spoke. “If you remember anything else, anything at all, you can send for me at any time of day, okay?” Aang stood while Akemi preoccupied Atian, he crossed the room, beckoning for Sokka to follow him outside.

“Don’t do anything rash, Sokka,” Aang commanded. He didn’t sound as though he was talking to a friend, but instead like the Avatar attempting to keep the peace. “You keep tensing,” Sokka unclenched his jaw, relaxed his fists, and let his shoulders slump.

“It’s just…” he sighed and leaned against the wall outside.

 _“So why wasn’t Zuko the one to come find me?”_ Sokka had asked Aang. The Avatar didn’t have an answer for him, not in the way he usually did, but he didn’t leave him without one either. The airbender took a seat across from his friend and rested his chin on his arms as he stared at the tribesman.

 _“The same reason you won’t bother him with the contents of the note burning a hole in your pocket. He believes you have enough on your plate at the moment,”_ Sokka swallowed a lump forming in his throat and covered his face with his hands in an attempt to snuff out the heat rising in his cheeks. When he looked to Aang again, the Avatar wore a knowing smile.

_“I won’t say a word, but I see you. I see what you’re feeling, it’s not a bad thing to feel, Sokka.”_

_“It is when politics is in the way,”_ That was it, that’s what continuously stopped him. The politics. It was too much for him, probably too much for Zuko, and at the end of the day he wasn’t sure if it would be worth it to wear his heart on his sleeve and let it all out. Not now, at least. He kept teetering between wanting to confess and wanting to stuff the feelings down as far as he could.

_“If politics is what’s stopping you, then you’ll never get what you want out of life.”_

“I’ve read his letters, Aang. I know what he goes through day in and day out, I’ve been informed of every attempt on his life from Zuko’s watered down perspective to Suki’s accurate depiction. I want to find each and everyone of them and-” Sokka stopped himself from finishing the thought. It was a thought too dark for any normal person.

“I’ve read them too, and keeping another threat to his life a secret is dangerous. You know this, I know this, so why are you doing it?” 

_“Because I left him, Aang._ I left him and a week later he was in the infirmary half dead and it happened over and over and I wasn’t there to listen to him talk about his nightmares or watch his back while he meditated the way I used to. I ran away and I need to make up for that.” Aang stared at him, his grey eyes narrowed in scrutiny.

“His life was not your responsibility then,” Sokka let out a relieved breath, “but it is now.” his muscles tensed. “It’s your choice, but know that your choices now are affecting Zuko’s future one way or another. So choose wisely, Sokka.” His words felt like waking up to a blanket of freshly fallen snow. Beautiful, glittery, but cold with secrets buried deep beneath. Meanings hidden in the spaces between.

“I-”

“Are we ready?” The door to Atian’s home had opened just as Sokka began to speak, and he was thankful for Akemi’s save. He wasn’t sure what he had planned to say to Aang, but whatever it was would more than likely have put a poor taste in both their mouths.

* * *

When Aang, Akemi, and Sokka returned to the palace of ice and snow, they were met by Zuko with Miura standing close by. “You’re back, I’ve been waiting for you,” his words were meant for everyone, but Zuko’s gaze lingered on Sokka. “Sorry I missed out on your field trip, Daichi and Koji had a lot they wanted to go over with the extra prep time. Would you like to get something for supper with me?” Only then did his eyes shift from person to person. Aang’s stomach rumbled loudly answering the question for him.

“Sounds like a plan to me,” he said as his hand rubbed his stomach in an absent manner. 

“I’ll have to pass,” The smile that had graced the lips of the Fire Lord faded instantaneously and Sokka wished with everything in him he’d said something else, but he had work to do. “Maybe we grab breakfast tomorrow?” he offered. The fallen face rose ever-so-slightly seeming to be satiated by this solution.

“Breakfast then,” Zuko agreed, leaving no room for Sokka to back out.

He left them, heading for his room to pour over his opinions, his theories, and the note that he’d kept with him all day, that haunted his thoughts whenever he allowed them to linger. The note that made it hard for him to look Zuko in the eye because what if Aang was right? What if his need to make right his absence did more harm than good? As quickly as the thought rose, he shoved it aside with the memory of Zuko crying in his arms to replace it.

They had been friends for years now and in all that time Sokka had never seen Zuko cry. A few escaped tears from a painful injury here or there, sure, but nothing like the tears that came with emotional pain. Those tears told Sokka much about the last two years and how they’d treated Zuko and it made him loathe himself all the more for letting his friend go through it all alone. _I never wrote back. Why didn’t I write back?_

Sokka paused his trek back to his room when he heard hushed whispers being shared around the corner. He pressed his back to the corridor wall and peered around the corner in hopes of catching whoever was there, but they were too far out of range for him to see. 

_“Fire Lord Zuko,”_ Sokka pressed closer at the mention of Zuko’s name, his hand reflexively stretched, reaching back to grab his boomerang if necessary. 

_“Quite unwell indeed, the poor soul hasn’t slept a wink these past few nights,”_ the voices became louder, footsteps echoing through the chamber, and Sokka relaxed his posture. He made a motion to round the corner, pretending he wasn’t just plotting to beat the shit out of whoever was standing there, but his demeanor shifted when he saw Feiwen talking with Daichi and Koji. Sokka’s blood boiled and he nearly lost all sense of decorum.

“Ambassador Sokka, good evening sir, how are you?” Daichi asked with a warm smile. Sokka nodded in greeting to him,

“I’m well, thank you for asking councilman Daichi,” Sokka’s gaze shifted from Daichi to Feiwen, “would you mind if I stole representative Feiwen from you for a few moments? I wanted to run the different routes from the South Pole to the villages south of Omashu by him before retiring for the night.” Daichi and Koji bowed in unison,

“Steal away, Ambassador,” Koji said, “and a good night to you representative Feiwen,” Feiwen cast a pained smile to the two councilmen as they left.

When they were alone, Feiwen turned to Sokka with a raised brow. The ambassador didn’t give him a chance to speak for as soon as Daichi and Koji were sure to be out of ear shot, he grabbed Feiwen’s wrist and dragged him off to one of the smaller meeting rooms.

“By the Spirits, _Sokka,_ what are you doing?” Feiwen asked when the door slammed behind them. Sokka locked the knob, not that it would do much good. He was positive if Feiwen wanted out, he would find a way out.

“What do you know about a threat to the Fire Lord’s life?” Sokka asked plainly. He straightened up, squaring his shoulders to make himself as large and imposing as he could as he blocked the doorway. Feiwen crossed his arms.

“What? I express distaste to the burn adorned on your neck given to you by him and suddenly I’m threatening his life?” Feiwen scoffed, “that’s _real_ classy of you, Ambassador.” 

Through gritted teeth, Sokka spoke, “do you know something about a threat on his life, yes or no?” 

“Look, I get it, you’re sick of the Earth Kingdom and Fire Nation feud, we all are, but that doesn’t mean I or anyone else are responsible for threatening your boyfriend’s life. Why not ask one of the civilians who suffered at the Fire Nation’s hand, maybe they’ve got something to do with it.” Feiwen paused his speech to think and as he did he walked around the nearby table while he examined the cuticles of his nails. It was only when he decided to speak again that he stopped to look up, “but that would take far too much time. We’ve all suffered, haven’t we? Including you,” 

Maybe it was the tone of Feiwen’s voice, or the posture with which he held himself, perhaps the expression he wore on his face, or possibly it was a combination of all three that sent Sokka tipping over the edge and out of calm waters straight into the storm of his heart. 

Sokka rushed Feiwen, hopping over the table and crossing the room in a matter of seconds. Too fast for the earthbender to react, the tribesman had him by the collar of his robes, pushing him to the wall and crowding his body against it as he fished the piece of parchment from his pocket. When Sokka had it in hand, he flipped the page open and shoved it in Feiwen’s face,

 _“Did you write this?!”_ Something flashed in Feiwen’s eyes. _Recognition._ It was gone just as quickly as it appeared. Feiwen leaned in slightly, anger twitching at his features.

“You think I’m stupid enough to threaten the Fire Lord’s life? Especially when he’s in _your_ favour?” Feiwen looked from Sokka to the note and back, “the only one putting his life in danger is you.” Sokka’s brows knitted together and his grip loosened on Feiwen.

“What do you mean?” the earthbender snatched the letter from Sokka’s hand,

“Can’t you read? _Abandon your tethers_ this note was given to you specifically instructing you to abandon the Fire Lord.” Not wanting to hear it, Sokka’s grip tightened again and he pulled Feiwen forward then slammed him against the wall causing Feiwen to hit his head.

“How do you know it was written for me?” 

“If it wasn’t, I assume Fire Lord Zuko would be doing the interrogation. Whoever wrote this has a problem with you being in the Fire Lord’s corner, and as much as I can see why you would think it me, I assure you it’s not, Sokka.” Feiwen’s voice was softer, but his gaze held strong, not letting go of the unrelenting emotions swelling within him. “I’m hurt, but I don’t wish you or Zuko or anyone harm. I’ll get over it, I’ll be an ass for a while, but I will get over it.” With every word his tone softened as did his gaze until Feiwen’s green eyes were red rimmed and watery. 

Sokka let go, taking a few steps back to give Feiwen some space. “I’m sorry… I… I don’t know what came over me.” Feiwen didn’t answer him as he fled the room before Sokka had the chance to change his mind about letting the representative go.

He was left to his own devices, clutching the note in his hand, staring at the words inked onto the paper. _Abandon your tethers_ the words stared up at him, taunting him. He knew what he had to do, but this time it wasn't by choice. His hand was temporarily forced leading Sokka to make a difficult decision.

He did not meet Zuko for breakfast the next morning.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> if you want to watch me do a downwards spiral on main, you can follow me [here](https://www.tumblr.com/blog/leopardgeckoz)


	7. and honestly i have been begging for answers that you and only you can give to me

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> hey! sorry this took so long to get up, i fell down some stairs and jacked up my meat suit pretty bad so it was really hard to exist for a few days!
> 
> name the artist and song title i referenced for this chapter title
> 
> See End Notes for Content Warning

Zuko put extra effort into his appearance the following morning. The dark circles he’d developed over his stay in the north grew noticeably more pronounced with each passing night, but he didn’t let that stop him from dressing to impress. He wasn’t sure why he felt the need to dress nice for breakfast with Sokka, it wasn’t like Sokka would care if he showed up looking like he’d barely dragged himself out of bed, but Zuko cared. He’d become increasingly aware of just how much he cared, but only when it came to Sokka. Aang? Pft. The Avatar had seen Zuko in his most feral stages of life, he didn’t really _need_ to worry about if he looked nice in front of Aang because it was almost certain the airbender had seen him looking worse.

He fiddled with his hair, trying to make it look nice but not too nice, not wanting to give away that he’d spent an absurd amount of time on it. He had to look like he was naturally the hottest thing in the North Pole, not like the out of place blazing ball of anxiety he truly was. 

When the Fire Lord was satisfied with his strategically messy bun, he donned one of his more… attractive? Lighter? Physically fit? _Sexier_ (the thought rang loudly like a bell in the back of his mind, but he ignored it.) outfits. He wasn’t trying to be sexy by any means. Just, like, he wanted to look good. Look good, feel good, that was it.

The wrap around tunic was black with gold embroidery around the seams, he tied the inside of it first then wrapped the fabric left over right and tied the outside of it in place. His trousers were solid black as were his boots, the fanciest thing being the lower cut of the tunics neckline. He looked presentable, professional, casual yet not like he didn’t care.

Decidedly satisfied by his fashion choice, Zuko headed out in search of Sokka who was certain to still be sleeping. Zuko knocked once, twice, three times and each time he received no answer. Sighing, he jiggled the door knob, it was locked.

“Ambassador Sokka’s not in,” one of the guards in the hallway who Zuko recognized as Lornak said.

“Oh? Do you know when he’ll be back?” Lornak shook his head slightly but his gaze remained straight ahead. 

“No, sir, just that he left early this morning with Avatar Aang,” Zuko raised a brow. _Aang knew about breakfast too, why are they…?_ He let the question die.

“Thank you, Lornak.” He wanted to say more, maybe attempt to make friends, but Zuko had been acquainted with Lornak for four years and this was the first time the man had spoken to him when he was not required to. He didn’t want to push his luck.

This left Zuko with an open day. Koji was busy setting up arrangements with the Earth Kingdom representatives while Daichi was off wooing one of the healers and Akemi was off duty for the day. That left one person to keep him occupied, he turned to the Kyoshi warrior standing a few feet behind him, casually leaning against the wall with a book in her hands.

“Adventure?” She closed the book. 

“Mhm, seems I’ve been stood up,” Miura glanced behind Zuko, her eyes flickering to Sokka’s door, then Lornak, and settling back on Zuko. 

“What did you have in mind?”

* * *

Zuko and Miura had ventured to the inner workings of the city taking less traveled back roads and alleyways to avoid being seen by civilians. It took them longer to get to their destination, but Zuko decided being cold was worth avoiding being seen and recognized as the Fire Lord. The less attention he drew to himself, the less of a problem the visit would be...he hoped.

When they reached a small broken down shack in the middle of the city, Zuko sucked in a breath. With Miura’s help, the two had tracked down Atian’s home. It was a difficult task to manage on their own without Akemi or Aang or Sokka who had all already been there, and perhaps it was an unnecessary visit, but Zuko needed to talk to the boy. With every passing hour, his concern for Zaynab’s safety grew more and more. It had transformed from a small nagging sensation in the back of his head to a perpetual bellowing in the forefront of his mind. _Something’s wrong,_ the thought wasn’t reserved for only Zaynab.

The door to Atian’s home was hanging askew on its hinges, rasping against the frame as the wind cut through the street. Zuko rushed inside.

“My Lord!” Miura called as she followed in after him. She stopped, practically running into Zuko, who was frozen in place upon entry.

The hovel was nearly decimated, chairs and table broken, splintered, the pieces scattered across the floor. Ceramic mugs and plates were shattered, the shards mixed in with the other debris, and the cheap tapestries on the wall were torn, barely hanging by a thread. There was blood, small hand prints smeared across the floor where someone had tried to crawl away from their attacker.

Zuko stepped forward, careful where he stepped, and made his way over to a discarded toy. Carved from wood, and worn by years of fiddling and play, Zuko crouched and picked it up.

“Miura.” Zuko’s voice was dangerously low in an effort to keep it from shaking. “I want you to find the boy’s father.”

“What about you? Who will-” Zuko stood, turning to her, the fire in his eyes blazing in a way she’d never seen before. The warrior fell silent.

“Find his father, that’s an order, Miura. Bring him to the palace as soon as you find him. Whatever work he misses, it will be covered.” His voice changed from low and even to desperate and shaky.

Every fear he had tried to push aside in regards to Zaynab surged forward, it wasn’t a nagging, nor a bellowing, but an over-powered reverberation shaking him through to the core. He couldn’t help but feel responsible. Maybe if she hadn’t been accepted into the Kyoshi Warriors, or maybe if he hadn’t brought her with to the North Pole, or even if he hadn’t given her the night off, maybe she would be standing with him next to Miura and maybe she would be introducing Atian to him instead of Zuko cradling the missing child’s toy.

Maybe, maybe, _maybe_ but it was too late for maybes. They needed to act now, _Agni, please, please keep them safe, keep them alive._ He held hope, but it was a dying flame. If Atian was as ill as Akemi had expressed…

* * *

Zuko stormed through the palace, the winding corridors going by in a blur of white as he approached Arnook’s chambers. Four guards stood posted at the door, two of which moved in front of it as soon as they saw Zuko.

“Fire Lord Zuko, the Chief is not to be disturbed,”

Zuko’s jaw was set, his shoulders squared, his fist clenched tight. He didn’t respond to the guard, but instead stared him down. It was a tedious task, staring someone down, but if he’d learned anything useful from Azula, it was how to take a man out with a look.

The guard began to sweat, his gaze bouncing around, looking anywhere that wasn’t Zuko, but even with his averted gaze he could feel Zuko’s stare. He stared harder. It wasn’t the guard he was looking at who cracked, but his comrade. The other guard cleared his throat, tugging at his collar, he, too, was sweating.

“Maybe we should let him through,” 

“Yeah,” the guard receiving the stare-down agreed. They stepped aside, the other two guards casting the three of them suspicious glances, but no one protested as the doors to Arnook’s chambers were pushed open and Zuko was allowed inside. 

The room was warmer than Zuko expected. Flames from a fireplace built into the far wall casting shadows around the room. The room was decorated in various shades of blue, greys, and silver, but the thing that caught Zuko’s attention was the portrait hanging above the fireplace. Princess Yue. Her hair was done in beautifully intricate braids, jewels of pearl, aquamarine, and sapphire adorned the overlapping plaits. She wore satin and tulle, not the usual heavy furs common to the watertribe. Zuko realized the painting was commissioned after the passing of the princess, and this was how she was seen as a spirit.

“It was gifted to me,” Arnook’s voice cut through the room, drowning out the sound of crackling flames and Zuko’s own heavy breath. “Ambassador Sokka had it made shortly after the war so that I might remember her the way he had last seen her.” Zuko turned to where Arnook’s voice originated and followed it through the large suite. 

He found the Chief, propped up in his bed, hair wet and matted to his face from sweat. His usual dark skin was paler, greener almost, his eyes and cheeks were sunken and hollow, he had dark circles upon dark circles. The glittering blue like ocean waves that used to live in Arnook’s eyes had died leaving them dull. Arnook pushed himself up a bit more, trying to gain a better look at Fire Lord Zuko, but he fell into a fit of coughs from the movement.

“Be still,” Zuko instructed, stopping a few yards away from the ailed man. He was within speaking distance, close enough to be heard but far enough to avoid catching whatever it was that plagued him.

“What brings you to my chambers, Lord Zuko? What could be so important that my guards let you pass,” _Some guards,_ Zuko thought. They couldn’t handle a stare-down from an amateur, how were they supposed to protect the Chief?

“One of the Kyoshi Warriors who escorted me here is missing. She’s of your people,” Zuko paused, waiting for Arnook to say something. When he was met only with the ragged breathing of the pestilence ridden man, he pressed on. “She was off the night of the festival and went to visit a friend, she hasn’t returned since, it’s been half a week and yesterday Avatar Aang, Ambassador Sokka, and another Kyoshi warrior went to visit the boy she had seen. When I went to see him today, he was gone.”

“He’s a ten year old boy, his home is in ruins, and there’s _blood_ , Arnook. You’re telling me what? That you harbour no sympathy for a boy who was caught in the middle of something he doesn’t understand, that _we_ don’t yet understand?” Zuko’s voice was surprisingly level for being under so much duress. His posture remained relaxed, and he tried with all his might to sound respectful no matter what emotion seeped into his words.

__

“We’re searching for the boy’s father now,” he added, “if you won’t help me search for my guard, then help me search for _your_ people.” It was a plea disguised as a challenge and by the Spirits did Zuko pray for Arnook’s help. Surely the stubborn old Chief wouldn’t overlook the needs of his own people, would he?

__

Arnook let out a raspy yet exasperated breath, “you may choose from my guard to help aid in your search, but choose wisely. Not just anyone will be willing to aid you, Fire Lord Zuko.” It wasn’t much, but it was better than nothing and Zuko had expected nothing.

__

It was that conversation with Arnook that landed Lornak in Zuko’s path for the second time in one day. Brandishing a scroll with the Chief’s signature, the firebender passed it to the guard, allowing him a few moments to read it.

__

“This means what, exactly?” Lornak asked, he had a deep voice that never ceased to cause the hairs on the back of Zuko’s neck to stand on end.

__

“I’m commandeering you,” Zuko explained,

__

“I’m certain that you can’t commandeer a person,” Lornak said wistfully, “but I suppose I’ll play along. For now.”

__

Zuko’s nerves spiked as he beckoned for Lornak to follow him. There were dozens of other guards Zuko could have asked to join him in his campaign, but the dozens of other guards had either ignored him unless required to acknowledge him, or they spoke to him with unbridled disdain. Zuko preferred being ignored.

__

Lornak wasn’t like that though. He didn’t ignore Zuko the way the others had, though he didn’t necessarily go out of his way to make conversation either. He never spoke disrespectfully or out of turn to anyone, including Zuko, and for that the firebender had singled him out. Indifference was something he could work with far more easily than loathing.

__

When singling out Lornak, however, Zuko had not expected his heart to start palpitating or his palms to start sweating the moment the guard had spoken to him. He especially hadn’t expected his knees to go weak when he was on the receiving end of a half hearted smile. _Agni don’t you dare,_

__

A once uncurled petal slowly returned to the bud it belonged to, closing itself off.

__

“Where would you like to start?” Lornak asked, his thundering voice penetrating Zuko’s mind so intensely it rattled his train of thought.

__

“I-, uh, the- the scene of… the home, the kids home. I want to take a second look at the damage with a fresh set of eyes. Are you up for it?” Lornak nodded, gesturing for Zuko to lead the way.

__

He remained silent during their walk, both of them did. It wasn’t an uncomfortable silence, wasn’t filled with the weight of unasked questions begging for answers the way the silences with Sokka were. It was just… silence. Silence that was filled with the chattering of strangers on the street, the tapping of dozens of feet, and the whistling of the wind blowing through the alleys of the city. No one knew that a few blocks over a home was destroyed and a child missing, no one knew that a Kyoshi Warrior who had been born and raised in the Northern Water Tribe had disappeared, no one knew that Chief had fallen ill. 

__

Suddenly the silence, the lack of distraction, was deafeningly loud and the background noises faded into one another as they approached the small hut, Zuko approaching for the second time that day.

__

He swallowed, his heart hammering in his chest. The initial shock of what he’d seen the first time had been enough to stop him from breaking down, but he wasn’t so sure he would have the strength to remain stoic this time. 

__

“Fire Lord Zuko?” Zuko turned to Lornak, looking up at the guard whose brows were furrowed. “Are you alright?” What a loaded question that was.

__

_No_. “Yes, I’m fine, it’s just-it’s a heavy scene,” he acknowledged. “He’s a child and he’s sick and his chances of surviving whatever he’s going through are low. I feel...responsible.”

__

He hadn’t meant for the admission to make it past his lips, but it did, rising up his throat and forming the syllables on his tongue faster than he could think better of them. But what harm was there in sharing a secret with a stranger? Sometimes it was a fun game to play because strangers never knew how to act when the Fire Lord confessed to them, but Lornak remained unphased.

__

“Would you like me to go in first?” 

__

_Yes._ “No, that’s alright,” how Zuko wished he wasn’t so prideful. 

__

It was hard going in, seeing the wreckage, what’s worse was it wasn’t destruction of a monument, statue, or shrine. It was someone’s home. A place they forged, crafted, built memories and traditions in, and it had been touched by tragedy. If they didn’t find Atian, there would be no reason for the boy’s father to return and attempt to mend the now broken home he had built. No wife, no child, no home. Zuko couldn’t imagine the pain, with every passing second he hoped Miura hadn’t found him yet, hoped they’d have more time, hoped they would succeed in bringing back Atian and Zaynab right that second. But every passing second was another second they were gone elsewhere, taken by a faceless, nameless being. Zuko wanted to tear the kidnapper apart.

__

“By the Spirits,” Lornak whispered from behind Zuko. _By the Spirits_ was an appropriate reaction. Now that his mind wasn’t going a million miles a minute, Zuko was able to pick out details he had overlooked before. Scuff marks in the floor, a path less cluttered than the rest, an area of focused carnage.

__

“He was sitting here,” Zuko murmured as he knelt down next to a worn cushion. There was an indention in it from years of repetitive use. His eyes caught sight of a blanket’s corner and followed after it, pausing to examine the direction the fabric had been pulled. He assumed there had been a knock, someone at the door posing as a friendly neighbor perhaps. Maybe Atian hadn’t answered right away, maybe he’d been asleep or feeling too unwell to get up, maybe he thought better of answering the door altogether.

__

“He answered the door,” Lornak interjected,

__

“What makes you say that?” 

__

“The blanket, it was thrown off the way someone would if they were getting up. Tossed haphazardly.” Zuko looked up to the guard, his gazing lingering, searching, but Lornak was placid.

__

“What else?” Lornak carefully maneuvered through the room towards Zuko, he knelt down next to the Fire Lord, his gaze following the direction Zuko’s had been headed.

__

“He answered the door, and he recognized the person on the other side. He tried to slam it shut and lock it, but they forced their way in. The kid tried to run away, but there’s only one way in and one way out of this place. He knew that, that’s why there’s so many broken dishes. He threw them.” Zuko could picture it in his head, he imagined the look on Atian’s face when the boy realized he was in danger, when fight or flight kicked in.

__

_“That’s enough,”_ Zuko’s voice was quieter than intended, but he didn’t have to repeat himself. Lornak listened, his explanation coming to a halt immediately. Zuko cleared his throat, “That’s enough for a report, would you write up a statement and get it to me as soon as possible once we’ve returned to the palace?” Lornak nodded,

__

“Of course, Lord Zuko.” Lornak stared at him and Zuko stared back, watching the cogs in the guard’s head go round and round, “I know what I said earlier… about playing along for now, but if you’re in need of my services again don’t hesitate to ask,” the words were rocks toppling down a cliff and Zuko was being buried beneath them.

__

“Thank you, Lornak. I appreciate that,” 

__

* * *

__

Zuko was seated across from Tejas, Atian’s father, who was tall, broad, and imposing with a gruff voice, muscled arms, and scars littering his hands and face. He stood, arms crossed over his chest, feet shoulder width apart, eyes fixed on the Fire Lord.

__

It took Miura a solid five hours to find the man, who had been out at sea with the rest of the crew who worked aboard the _Hai Hua_ , an advanced fishing vessel. He’d been hostile when she approached him, recognizing her as _one of those ‘fire eaters’._ (A term referring to non-benders from other nations who work for or live in the Fire Nation.) He only complied when she handed him a scroll with the Fire Lord’s seal requesting his presence at the palace. A royal summons was nothing to sneeze at after all.

__

“Make this quick, your highness, I have a job to get back to, gotta save up to send my boy off to university. Brilliant boy, bright future.”

__

It shocked Zuko that Tejas didn’t mention his son’s ailment, as if it wasn’t an ever present thing the child had to deal with in his day to day life. He wasn’t sure if the silence was due to pride or shame or both, but Zuko didn’t bother asking about it immediately. The conversation was already hard enough.

__

“Your son is why I’ve called you here, Tejas. I believe you’re familiar with one of the warriors in my employment, Zaynab.” The tribesman’s jaw set, muscles in his neck flexing. Zuko took the reaction as a yes. “She visited your son a few nights ago and she never returned to her post. She’s been missing several days now and-”

__

“What? You think my boy had something to do with that fire eater’s disappearance?” Zuko’s patience suddenly wore thin.

__

“That _fire eater_ is an adept warrior and a loyal friend. She spent her day off visiting your child, whom she cares for deeply, and it is evident from our findings that your son’s relationship with Zaynab rivals that of even the closest siblings. You’ll show her some respect when referring to her or you won’t speak of her at all.” Tejas’s eyes narrowed, but he remained silent, which encouraged Zuko to get to the point of the meeting.

__

“No, we don’t believe Atian was involved... Tejas, you’re here, well, you’re here because your son is missing.”

__

Tejas broke his silence with a rough outburst, “You’re lying!” 

__

“I wish I was,” Zuko shot back quickly, “believe me when I say I wish I was. Yesterday three people in my confidence that I trust with my life visited your son, asking him questions about what happened that night and if he’d seen anything, today he’s missing. I have every reason to believe that visit was the catalyst for his disappearance,”

__

Tejas was barely standing, no longer staring Zuko down, and he wasn't acting with unfettered hostility towards Zuko or Miura when Miura helped him to a chair.

__

Zuko decided to mention his knowledge of Atian’s illness, “Tejas, what is the severity of your son’s ailment? How...how long do we have to...to find him?”

__

Tejas didn’t speak. Zuko looked to Miura, whose hand was still on Tejas’s shoulder, gently squeezing it.

__

“Take your time,” Miura spoke softly, “take your time, but know we are looking. Tejas if we find Zaynab I am positive we’ll find Atian, and if my hunch is correct and they’re being kept together, I know Zaynab will stop at nothing to keep him safe. It’s little comfort, but it’s what we can offer while we search,”

__

_By the spirits,_ she was far better at comforting an aching heart than he was. Zuko knew his limits when it came to interactions and decided to sideline, letting Miura take the lead as Tejas processed the information he’d been given. After a long silence the man finally found his words,

__

“A week, maybe, he’s...he needs medicine, certain foods, or he gets sick, falls asleep, doesn’t wake up until he gets them. Healers can’t do anything to fix it, say he’ll be like that his entire life, say that if he sleeps too long he- he-” the man who had entered the room seeming larger than life had become small, voice weak and cracking, Zuko could almost make out the beginnings of a sob.

__

“He won’t wake up.” Zuko finished. Tejas face fell into his hands, his large body shaking violently as he wept in front of them.

__

“Forgive me,” he said between gasps of breath, “forgive me, please, _please_ find my boy, please,”

__

Zuko had been stabbed many times in his two decades of life, but the feeling rising in him at the sight of a distraught father begging for his son’s life was far worse than any physical pain he had ever experienced. For a fleeting moment, he pictured his Uncle discovering the death of his son, Lu Ten, and the pain worsened.

__

“We’ll do everything we can,” Miura said when Zuko had been silent for too long. “You have the word of a Kyoshi Warrior,” 

__

* * *

__

It took Zuko a hot shower filled with crying of his own before he was calm enough to plan his next steps. Those steps consisted of finding Sokka and Aang and filling them in on all that had happened. It was late in the evening when the pair returned to the palace on Appa’s back. Their expression’s grave, their conversation hushed when they landed, and everything came to a halt when Zuko was spotted waiting for them.

__

He recognized the expression on Sokka’s face, it was the same expression he’d held the first day of the meetings, the same vacancy and disinterest, but Zuko didn’t feel cold this time when he saw it. No. He felt like he was on fire, the flames that coursed through his veins boiling him from the inside out. His fists clenched, jaw set, and he returned the look with something he hoped was colder, harder, meaner.

__

The petal that had curled in on itself loosened once again,

__

“Hey Zuko!” Aang greeted, his voice was cheery, but Zuko could hear the hint of edge to it, like Aang was trying to mask the reaction he’d had to the conversation he and Sokka had laid to rest only moments prior.

__

“I need to speak with you, both of you.” Zuko did his best to keep his voice flat, even, monotonous though inside he was screaming. Screaming with fear, screaming with anger, screaming with heartache, screaming. _Agni I don’t understand this, any of this, I need answers._

__

“I can’t,” Sokka said as he slid off the bison. “I promised Akemi I would help her with her wood carving,” 

__

“You’re a terrible wood carver.” Zuko deadpanned, when Sokka didn't stop, Zuko called after him, “it’s about Atian.” Sokka’s retreating figure came to a halt as the boy’s name rang through the air.

__

“What about him?” Aang asked, head tilted to the side slightly, curiosity filling his grey eyes.

__

“He’s missing.” 

__

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> depictions of violence/implied violence against a child


	8. fall to pieces

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hi, yes, hello! I wanted to thank everyone who's been reading this fic for making it this far!   
> I would love to hear from you, so like, don't be afraid to leave a comment, no pressure though, you do you,
> 
> anyway, 
> 
> See End Chapter Notes for Content Warning

Sokka didn’t remember much about his mother, with every passing day her memory faded more and more. She existed, that much he knew. She had been beautiful, kind, and ever patient with Sokka, that much he also knew. Though his memory of her faded like drops of morning dew evaporating with the rise of the afternoon sun, he never forgot what she looked like and if for a moment he thought that he did, he would look to Katara and remember.

Kya had taught Sokka about the hierarchy of needs when he was a child. Dad would go hunting, mom would help build and mend the tent. Basic needs, food and shelter. Things everyone, all life forms, required to survive. She taught him of relationships, how she and Hakoda had fallen in love, how each of them felt when the other gave praise. Though he hadn’t realized it at the time, she’d also taught him of the final tier, the self actualization part. He hadn’t learned it directly from her, per se, but he had learned it in the days after her passing as he stood tall, head up, acting proud and unafraid. He would come up with ideas that helped the men of the tribe, he would watch the younger children, Katara included, and he would feel a sense of pride in being needed, wanted, like he was important.

Sokka had isolated himself from his friends, from Zuko, and the more he closed himself off surrounded by four white walls and scattered parchment filled with notes, schedules, and the ramblings of a man on the verge of losing his mind. The longer he avoided Zuko, the more his mind was plagued with thoughts of him until everything else faded to black and all that was left was the Fire Lord. His eyes, his smile, the way his hand had felt in Sokka’s. Sokka would let himself linger, let himself feel, until something pulled him back, a connection, an idea, something that reminded him of the harsh reality they faced. 

These thoughts, these painfully consistent thoughts, were what forced Sokka from his repetitive actions, and how he found himself at Zuko’s bedroom door in the middle of the night with fists raised, ready to knock. He stopped himself, fist slowly, gently resting against the heavy door followed by Sokka’s forehead. He leaned against it, defeated, knowing the consequences if he were to see Zuko for even a moment would outweigh the relief he would feel. He caught himself whispering to the void, the door, to Zuko who wouldn’t be able to hear him,

“I’d rather live a thousand lifetimes away from you, knowing you’re alive, than one where you’ve been taken,” 

The words were too quiet for anyone to hear, even Sokka, some syllables were audible while others were mouthed, but that didn’t curb the embarrassment he felt when he pushed off the door to find Akemi staring at him intently, brow raised, arms crossed.

“What are you doing?” _Tui and La what am I doing?_ He didn’t know.

“Just out for a stroll,” He offered,

“In front of the Fire Lord’s door? You can stroll elsewhere, Ambassador,” There was a bitterness to her words, a side of Akemi Sokka had never seen before. He wondered if it had to do with Zuko. If the warriors attitude could be attributed to the way the Fire Lord now perceived him, cold and cruel. Sokka hoped that wasn’t the case, but it was the only thing that made sense to him. Why else would the Kyoshi Warrior act so abrasively?

“Right, sorry,” Sokka moved along without another word. He walked the perimeter of the palace which took him just over an hour before he circled back to his room. When he approached, he stopped, spying a cloaked figure sliding something under his door.

“Hey!” Sokka yelled, his voice echoing, bouncing against pillars of ice. The cloaked figure glanced to Sokka before turning and bolting down the corridor. Sokka ran after them, _“Stop!”_

He followed as closely as he could, but the figure was faster than he, so Sokka did the only thing he could do to draw attention to the chase, he yelled more, louder, and soon he could hear the doors he passed opening. He turned right, then left, then right again before he slammed into Daichi, the two men tumbling to the ground.

Sokka jumped up as swiftly as able with zero regard towards Daichi, his eyes focused on the expanse of the halls, searching for something out of place.

“Did you see them?” Sokka asked, when he finally resolved that the cloaked figure had gotten away.

“See who?” Daichi grunted as he stood up, dusting himself off.

“The person, there was a person, they- they slid something under my door,” Daichi cast a confused look in Sokka’s direction, his dark eyes were outlined with dark circles, and it dawned on Sokka that no normal person would be up this late even if he was out. “What are you doing out. Here. Awake?” He asked accusingly, and as he did others began to surround them. Others that Sokka had woken during his pursuit.

“Ambassador Sokka, what are you doing?” It was Zuko, he had pushed through the forming crowd when Daichi’s name reached his ears. Sokka’s fists clenched as he turned to look at Zuko, hair falling in the tribesman's face when he moved. Sokka ran a hand through the locks, pushing them away from his eyes so he could get a better look at the Fire Lord. He regretted it immediately.

Bricks of gold. Solid, unwavering, striking. It was said in the stories of old that the eyes were the windows to the soul, Zuko’s soul was walled off. His eyes were narrowed enough to get the point across, but his face was otherwise expressionless.

“Must I repeat myself?” Zuko questioned when he received no answer, “What are you doing?” Sokka cleared his throat.

“Nothing, Fire Lord Zuko.” Sokka meant to drag his gaze away, to look at anything else, but he was stuck. It had been nearly two days since Zuko had told him of Atian’s disappearance, two days of him searching for answers to no avail, two days of isolation from everyone. It wasn’t much, but when all he thought about, all he dreamt about, all he cared about stood in front of him after two days apart. _Spirits give me strength,_ he wasn’t sure he could do it anymore.

“Seems like a lot more than _nothing,_ Ambassador Sokka,” Zuko’s gaze flickered over to Daichi and he nodded in the direction of the nobleman’s room. “Go,” Daichi pushed past Sokka and through the crowd per the Fire Lord’s orders. “Your accusatory tone and disheveled presentation leave a lot to be concerned over, Ambassador. Perhaps you should seek help from a healer,” Zuko’s eyes had returned to Sokka, but they didn’t meet the tribesman’s. Instead, they were on Sokka’s neck, staring at the discoloured bandage loosely wrapped around it. Sokka’s hand instinctively reached up for his neck, the burn beneath aching at his touch.

“I’m fine,” _Don’t look at me like that, please._ “Just, tired,” Sokka tried being curt, but his tone gave more away than he wanted. Bojing cleared his throat, and Sokka was startled to find the man standing nearby.

“Well, if all is well, perhaps we should retire for the night.” the other ambassadors and noblemen that had gathered in the corridor sounded off in agreement. One by one they left the hall, returning to their rooms, until the only ones left were Zuko and Sokka and Akemi who was hovering nearby.

When the click of the last door locking could be heard, Zuko firmly grabbed Sokka’s unburned arm and dragged the Ambassador to his(Sokka’s) suite. Sokka fought against Zuko’s grip, twisting, tugging, pulling but the Fire Lord didn’t give. He pushed the door open and pulled Sokka inside, locking the door behind them, leaving Akemi in the corridor.

“Sit.” Zuko’s voice was firm, that of a Lord, not a friend. Sokka meant to protest, but he couldn’t, not when Zuko used his stern voice, so he sat. Zuko went for the bathroom, for the first aid kit, and Sokka’s hand traveled to his neck again. “You’re an idiot, you know?” Zuko said as he came out of the bathroom. “Looks like you haven’t changed the bandage since the last I saw you, are you _trying_ to get an infection?” When Zuko sat next to Sokka, the tribesman held his breath, not daring to answer as the Fire Lord unfastened the bandage, carefully unwinding it from around Sokka’s neck. With every pass around the back of Sokka’s head, Zuko leaned closer, and Sokka felt warmer. Zuko’s eyes were focused on his task, not looking up once.

“No,” Sokka finally answered, “I’m not,” the bandage was discarded and Zuko now peeled away a gauze lining to reveal the injury beneath. 

“Well, you’re failing miserably,” his words were sharp edges, his touch was cotton soft. “If you don’t take care of these, they’ll get worse and they’re getting worse, Sokka.” Salve. Gauze. Bandage. Sokka leaned in to every touch, hung on every word, drinking in his fill of Zuko knowing full well this interaction would be one of their last until the Fire Lord was safe.

“When was the last time you cleaned this place, cleaned yourself? Sokka, are you...are you alright?” Zuko’s eyes landed on Sokka while he fastened the bandage. “You just...you disappeared, everyone’s worried about you,” _Does that include you?_ “I told them not to worry, that you’re like this sometimes, but some of them aren’t convinced. Mainly Feiwen, but he’s been on edge since he found out about your burns…” Zuko rambled on and Sokka let him, not sure what to say, not sure if there was anything to say.

Sokka’s eyes scanned the disaster he called a room, pausing on his door, on the folded bit of parchment resting on the ground. He flew off the bed, across the room, and snatched up the parchment.

_Your struggle we witness, your commitment is key._

_Proceed as you are, no harm to unto thee._

Sokka crumpled the parchment, rage flaring within him. _No harm unto thee, fuck me, what about Zuko?_ His body tensed when he heard Zuko shuffling behind him,

__

“What is that?”

“Nothing,” Sokka lied, Zuko huffed,

“Nothing, nothing, nothing. That’s all it is with you, isn’t it? Nothing.” He was still several feet away, but Sokka could feel the heat radiating off the Fire Lord. He heard the heaviness of Zuko’s breathing, the sudden wash of fatigue over him. “Nothing is something,” Zuko said between gasps of breath.

“Maybe you should sit down,” Sokka suggested taking a step closer to the Fire Lord. He looked worse than Sokka felt.

“Maybe you should tell me what’s going on,” Zuko snapped, Sokka’s shoulders slumped.

“I- I can’t, Zuko.” The Fire Lord’s jaw set, his eyes shifting from Sokka’s face to his hand. He was fast, moving across the room, closing the gap between them and snatching the crumpled parchment from Sokka’s hand. “No!” Sokka grabbed Zuko’s arm, twisting it behind him and shoving the firebender face first into the door. The note began to smoke in Zuko’s hand. _“Drop it!”_

“Let me go, now!”

“I said ‘drop it’, Zuko!” the parchment burst into flames. Sokka released Zuko and jumped back as the blazing ball fell to the ground. Zuko stamped it out swiftly, but only ashes remained.

“I… I have to go,” Zuko grabbed the doorknob,

“Zuko, wait,” Sokka called, hand outstretched to grab the Fire Lord, but he thought better of it and dropped it.

_“No.”_ Zuko’s tone was severe, “I waited, Sokka. I waited for thirty-six fucking months with nothing to show for it. Unless you’re prepared to tell me the truth in the next five seconds, I’m done waiting.” Words unsaid, sentiments unrealized, love unrequited. The silence was deafening, the space between was crowded, and the looks exchanged held more than a pair of hands could.

Hand still on the doorknob, Zuko spoke again, “Did I upset you? Offend you in some way that has escaped my grasp?” his face was riddled with desperation, searching Sokka’s expression for something, anything, grasping for a tether to cling to. Sokka’s exhaustion masked everything trying to break through, “what happened to our friendship, Sokka? Was I-was I mistaken? Are we not friends?”

Sokka couldn’t bear to look at Zuko any longer, he tore his gaze, staring at the floor instead. He wanted to say everything, every fucking thing. To spill everything that he’d held inside himself, to open the floodgates and hope neither of them drowned, to let Zuko in. It was the whispered heartbreak that shattered his resolve,

“Do I mean nothing to you?” 

_(In Zuko’s chest, petals loosened, falling open, until what was once a seed became a vibrant and blooming flower, but they opened too fast, grew too quickly. The edges of the petals dried, browned, shriveled until they fell from the bloom.) ___

____

“You mean the world to me,” Sokka said looking up, eyes fixing on Zuko again. The response was instantaneous, instinctive, a reflex. He was confident in his statement, but even to his own ears he sounded desperate, disoriented, even a little pained. Zuko’s face twisted in confusion.

____

“Then why does it feel like you want nothing to do with me? I thought- I thought this year would be different. I was excited, Sokka, I was excited to have a friend in the council room and you- you wouldn’t even look at me. _Why?_ What am I missing?”

____

Zuko’s eyes glittered with forming tears. His hand was no longer resting on the knob. His body was no longer positioned away from Sokka. The firebender faced the tribesman, hands clenched at his side once again, jaw set to keep from quivering. Sokka took him in, everything he had been, everything he had become, and everything he was growing into. _By the Spirits,_ Sokka was in love with him, most ardently.

____

The tears began to fall, Zuko stood before him crying,

____

“It’s- it’s complicated,” Sokka stuttered out,

____

“Being outcast from one’s family is complicated, chasing down the Avatar is complicated, being Fire Lord is complicated. What the fuck could be so complicated that it’s easier to shut me out than man up and talk to me? What Sokka!? For someone so smart you’re so _fucking stupid.”_

____

Zuko seethed through his tears, his hands flying to his face to wipe them away. The flames that coursed through Zuko’s veins flared in his eyes, angry. Though anger was what he wore on his sleeve, Sokka saw everything. The frustration, the sadness, the fear, the confusion, and the heart break. Everything Zuko had built up within himself over the last two and a half years was bubbling to the surface and at its core was Sokka. His absence, his silence, his inability to handle his own shit. It had left a gaping wound in his friend’s heart and rather than fixing it, he was making it worse.

____

Sokka opened his mouth and it all came crashing down like lightning striking a rod, electrically charged and pained, far from how he had wanted this conversation to go.

____

_“You were Fire Lord!”_ Sokka yelled, fists clenching at his sides, “you were Fire Lord and you were in love and I was- I was so _small_ suddenly. You were busy with Fire Lord duties, with Mai, with everything else and I- I ran away, Zuko. I ran away because I didn’t matter anymore, I wasn’t needed there, not by you. You were adjusting so well, handling your new title with ease, and with the Kyoshi Warriors at your side there was no place for me.” He had absent-mindedly taken a few steps closer to Zuko, staring down into the Fire Lord’s eyes. The fire flaring in Zuko’s gaze met the hurricane brewing in Sokka’s own.

____

“I wanted to come back, I wanted to write, I wanted to come running every time word came that you’d nearly been killed. I wanted to take up arms and protect you, I wanted so badly to be by your side, Zuko. I-” He paused, Zuko’s gaze boring into him, forcing Sokka to take him in. His eyes, hair, height, scent. Sokka was so acutely aware of Zuko’s scent. Fire lilies and lavender. Sokka could have stood there letting himself get lost in Zuko’s presence, but his own words stopped him from allowing it. Zuko wiped his eyes again,

____

“I’m stupid,” Sokka agreed, “I’m so stupid, _so fucking stupid,_ I’m stupid okay? I’m stupidly in l-” there was a loud knock at the door and the pair jerked their heads towards it, panicked silence heavy in the air. “You shouldn’t be here,” Sokka’s voice was now a harsh whisper. “Quick, get in the closet,” before Zuko could protest, Sokka was shoving him into the wardrobe, latching it as soon as the Fire Lord was concealed behind the doors. “Come in,”

____

The door rattled, but didn’t budge. Quickly, Sokka made his way over to unlock it, opening the door to reveal Aang behind it.

____

“Hey, I heard what happened with Daichi, are you okay?” Sokka let out a relieved sigh upon seeing the Avatar.

____

“Yeah, I...there was… it’s a long story, I can’t talk about it right now.” Sokka glanced over his shoulder to the wardrobe then turned to face Aang. “wait, did someone wake you?” The Avatar was fully dressed, head shaved revealing the arrow atop it.

____

“No, no, I was up already...out. I was looking... for Zaynab and Atian.” 

____

“In the dark?” Aang shrugged,

____

“I can bend fire, and…” he paused, “I’m the Avatar, Bridge between worlds, I recruited some help from a few Spirits,” he didn’t need to say it, Sokka knew the Spirits Aang was referring to included Yue.

____

He meant to speak, to send Aang on his way, but when he opened his mouth the wardrobe burst open. Zuko booked it out of the room, running at full speed and nearly knocking Aang over when he left the room. He was still crying.

____

Sokka had stood there, staring at the door, speechless. “Sokka?” Aang asked, looking from the wardrobe to the door then to Sokka. “What, what was Zuko doing in your closet?” 

____

“We were fighting, I thought...I thought you were someone else,” Sokka’s voice was barely audible as he thought of the words that had almost left his mouth. _I’m stupidly in love with you. Tui and La_ he’d almost said it. He’d almost let go of nearly three years of pining and heart ache and said it. Sokka ran a hand through his hair.

____

“I received another note,” 

____

Night faded, giving way to daybreak, and all the while the moon set and the sun rose Sokka and Aang spoke in soft tones while lying in Sokka’s bed. The tribesman explained the events of the night, omitting the details of he and Zuko’s confrontation. That, he wanted to keep close to his heart. He resolved that after a few hours of sleep and a shower, he would go to Zuko and lay it all on the table for him to see. All of it. He would confess everything.

____

His eyes fluttered close while he spoke to Aang, the words on his tongue dying as his mind fell to black though his room was slowly filling with light. Aang fell asleep next to him, exhausted from his search. The pair snoozed, cuddled up close, safe and sound.

____

Sokka came-to hours later when the sun was low in the sky. Aang was gone, probably out searching again, leaving Sokka to his own devices. His own resolution. He wiped the crust from his eyes, the drool from his mouth, and headed for the bathroom.

____

Unfastening the bandages on his neck and arm, he examined the burns. Zuko was right, they had worsened from his neglect. The skin surrounding the injury was red, puffy, and the burns had adopted a yellowish hue. He decided it was in his best interest to see one of the healers before it got worse, but only after he spoke to Zuko. That was first. The longer he waited, the more likely he was to chicken out.

____

* * *

____

“There was something I wanted to say last night before we were interrupted, but I’m kind of glad that we were… I mean, it would have come out wrong. What I’m trying to say is… Zuko, I love you.” Sokka stared at his reflection in the mirror, hands gripping the sink. During his shower he'd played the conversation with Zuko in his mind over and over, how he wanted to say it, what he wanted to say, but now that he'd said it out loud he let out an exasperated sigh and hung his head, “I sound so stupid,” he lifted his head, grabbed his comb, and pulled his hair back. He dressed his best, in a dark blue long sleeved fitted tunic with silver waves embroidered along the hemline. His trousers were a looser fit in a dark grey that he’d tucked into his boots. When Sokka was satisfied with his appearance, (he wasn’t satisfied but no matter how much he fussed with his appearance it didn’t change any) he left his room, heading for Zuko’s. 

____

“Excuse me, Ambassador Sokka?” Sokka had barely left his room when Koji called his name.

____

“Yes?” he looked to the nobleman, Koji was an older gentleman harmless upon appearance, but that was merely an act. It was well known among the council that he was not to be trifled with, though he’d taken an oath of abstinence from bending, he was still a renowned bender.

____

“Do you have a moment to spare?” Sokka looked down the hall in the direction of Zuko’s room.

____

“Presently I’m on a schedule, perhaps later,” the tribesman offered, not wanting to wait any longer. The words were on the tip of his tongue, ready to be blurted out. His heart thudded louder and louder with every passing moment.

____

“This won’t take long, I promise you that, Ambassador,” Sokka sighed. Better to get it over with, he decided.

____

“Alright,” Koji led Sokka away from the boarding rooms to the abandoned meeting hall. 

____

What was usually bustling with movement from councilmen, guards, and palace staff was now silent. They entered a smaller room, one Sokka had never seen before. It was darker, smaller, colder, like it was facing the outside, but that didn’t make sense with the set up of the palace, the room should have only been surrounded by interior halls. Sokka blinked as his eyes adjusted to the dimly lit room. He turned to face Koji who was closing the door.

____

“What, precisely, did you want to discuss?” Sokka asked. The room illuminated with light from flames flickering in Koji’s hand. Sokka’s eyes widened, the thudding of his heart no longer from the anxiety of confessing his feelings to Zuko, but from the hair rising on the back of his neck and the voice in his head whispering, _danger._

____

“Your relationship with the Fire Lord,” Koji’s voice was fixed, his eyes never leaving the flame in his hand. “You’re close, are you not?” Sokka’s hands balled into fists.

____

“Perhaps,” 

____

“Mm, then I suppose you _are_ a lost cause, tch. The others were so sure we could get you to see our views,” Koji’s eyes looked to Sokka, gaze inscrutable. 

____

_Others?_ “And what are your views, exactly?” Sokka reached for his boomerang, but the space he normally wore it was empty. He inwardly swore at himself for daring to leave it behind.

____

Koji cleared his throat, “Sozin’s bloodline. It’s...tainted,” Sokka’s jaw set. “Our organization plans to... _cleanse_ the Fire Nation of the stain.”

____

“You mean Zuko,” he said through gritted teeth, “and Iroh?” Koji chuckled,

____

“As much as I respect General Iroh, he is as much a problem as his nephew, his brother, his father, and his father’s father. If Sozin’s blood courses through the veins, they must be dealt with.”

____

“I suppose you were right then, I don’t agree with your views.” The flame extinguished, and Koji stepped aside, 

____

“Go on then, you’re of no use to me,” _This is a trap._ Sokka cautiously edged around Koji, making his way to the door, but the man made no move. _This is a trap, this is a trap, this is a trap._ Sokka opened the door to find Akemi on the other side, he let out a sigh of relief.

____

“Ambassador Sokka? What’re you doing here?” the Kyoshi Warrior asked, eyes wide with confusion.

____

“I was-” Sokka glanced back into the room, Koji was gone. He furrowed his brows, eyes scanning the room. There was only one visible way in and out… _how?_ He turned back to Akemi just in time to see her fist flying at his face. He staggered back into the room and she followed after him, closing the door.

____

“It’s a shame you know,” Akemi said, “it was so _easy_ and then you came along, came here, and you ruined everything. Suicide, that’s what it would have looked like. He was pathetically depressed, you know, and I think people would have bought it. Young Fire Lord Zuko, not fit to handle his duties, unable to cope with the council’s mistreatment of him.” She scoffed, pulling out her fan.

____

Sokka’s hand gripped his bleeding nose, his eyes scanning the room for some sort of escape, but he couldn’t find anything. His only sure way out was being blocked by Akemi, _click_ pieces of the puzzle fell into place.

____

“You went with us to find out what Atian knew,” Akemi swung her arm, fan open, razor’s edge heading straight for him. Sokka jumped back,

____

“Mhm,” 

____

“You led them to him?” Sokka yelled, “What kind of twisted bitch do you have to be to put a child’s life in danger?!” Akemi ran at him, fans open and ready to strike. Sokka stepped to the side, he threw a punch at her back, but Akemi was faster than he. She pivoted on her heel, her arm flew up colliding with his, her other arm swung horizontally across his torso.

____

Blood seeped onto the torn fabric of Sokka’s tunic, he staggered back grunting in pain. His vision blurred as he pressed his hand to his abdomen. He blinked rapidly when he pulled his hand back, red. Time slowed down.

____

Sokka ran at Akemi yelling all the while, he knew he wouldn’t win the fight, but he refused to go down without trying. His movements were sluggish, dragging, and the moment he was in her proximity she began landing blows on his pressure points, paralyzing him. He crashed to the ground, knocking over the nearby table. Dark spot obscured his already hazy vision, but he was just able to make out Akemi’s form kneeling down next to him.

____

“Staging Zuko’s suicide _would_ have been fun, but framing him for your murder? hmmm. Now _that’s_ delicious,” One thought crept to the forefront of Sokka’s mind as he succumbed to the darkness.

____

_Zuko._

____

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> CW: mention of suicide, character violence
> 
> Oh, also, my next update will not be until the end of February due to a massive project i am working on and I don't want to rush what happens next, so please be patient! I promise i'm not going to leave this fic hanging, things are just hectic this month,


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